#on her little scribbled out bio you can kinda make out that it says she’s the smartest one or something of that sort

[doctorsiren]

he’s mad she ratted him out

[buglaur]

inside the sealed envelope with the application form were a collection of sticky notes and printed photographs. they had scribbled handwriting all over them..

daithí murray for @rainymoodlet​​’s daniel | bio under cut

name: daithí murray

age: 46

traits: lazy | party animal | bro

height: 5′8

applying for role as a contestant

daithí is a single dad living in henford with his teenage daughter felicity. they’ve got a quaint house on a quiet road with an open garden.

things had always been rocky with his long term girlfriend. hoping that things would get better between them when felicity came along, they soon realised that things just weren't going to work. they split up not long after felicity turned four, and daithí decided it was best for her to stay with him because her mother travels for work. nowadays they co-parent with felicity staying with him on the weekdays.

daithí is a veteran daniel stan. he’s been following daniel’s career since before his big popularity boom. he has very proudly collected every single episode of ‘your dad’s garage’ and has them neatly arranged in order of their release date. he bought a very pricey signed poster on e-bay that probably isn’t even legit and he has a little backyard space dedicated to crafting items made on the show. he’s not great but he tries! he doesn’t really watch them for the carpentry tips anyways, there are more interesting things to look at in the show.. 👀 he also made some bootleg merch from a t-shirt printing store that says “#1 daniel fan” 

up until last year daithí worked as a caretaker for the library across the road. he had no problem with the job but decided to give it up to pursue his hobby as a career. he’s always had a passion for drink making, and now runs his own craft beer business from his backyard. he sells it on to local pubs and its been pretty successful!

seeing as he works from his garden and he’s in the house alone on the weekends, he decided to partner up with the nearby vet shelter to take some dogs off their hands. he fosters puppies and tries his best to house train them alongside his own four dogs. the place is usually pretty hectic with dogs doing zoomies throughout the whole house but it’s something he’ll never regret getting himself into.

daithí has absolutely no idea any of this is happening. he doesn’t know what ‘kiss me in komorebi’ is, nor does he understand the concept of a bachelor challenge. felicity’s decided not to tell him about the application unless he secures a place, fearing that he might get his hopes up too much. 

some fun facts:

everyone always asks him what the meaning behind his face tattoo is. he tells them that it’s a very personal and meaningful reason that he’d rather not share, when in reality he just got it on a drunken night out as a teenager.

he’s the calloway twin’s uncle on their mom’s side. cillian thinks he’s cool but cathal is scared of him. he thinks he’s too loud 😭

he has the strongest accent in the family, and it’s really bad. like it’s difficult to understand what he’s even saying if you don’t know him.

felicity really wanted a septum piercing for her birthday one year, but she was too scared to get it done. daithí made a promise to her that he’d get it done with her so she wouldn’t be as nervous. so now they’ve got matching piercings!

if he does get a part in the show, it’s going to be very difficult to get him to do any of the ‘outdoor enthusiast’ challenges that the producers might have in store. he absolutely hates the cold and is very much a comfort zone kinda guy when it comes to danger.

he’s a big grump in the mornings, but a cup of tea will usually fix that.

also dear lovely shan i hope you don’t mind i used your pic for the poster and tshirt! ❤️ but this was so much fun to make. i’m looking forward to kmik even if daithí doesn’t make it!!! it’s gonna be so good i can already feel it. everything abt it is just mmmwah, not to mention daniel.. what a hottie

[otptings]

Life Goes On

→Idols: Wong Kunhang & Xiao Dejun

→Requested: Yessss Hi!!! I’m a new follower and literally fell in love with your writing ^o^ May I request an angsty right person at the wrong time scenario with either Xiaojun or Hendery, thank you!

→Genre: Right Person Wrong Time, angst, fluff

→Word Count: 2.7k+

→Warnings: self degradation, implied cheating, Hendery's an asshole, Xiao's a savior, kinda self indulgent (apologies)

→Synopsis: Life's not far. You either have to learn how to swim or drown in your own misery.

→A/n: I honestly surprised myself when I finished this cause I'm actually behind on a couple requests but I really enjoyed writing this. I hope you enjoy reading this, and if you did please like, reblog or donate to my Ko-Fi in my bio. Requests are open for NCT, Enhypen, SVT, and Treasure.

Life isn’t fair, and it isn’t always right. Things don’t end the way you want them to, and no amount of begging or wishing or sacrificing will change fate. So you can only sit there, watch as life moves on without you in it. You either learn how to swim or drown in your own misery.

You swam.

Wong Kun-Hang, you’re child-hood bestfriend. The two of you met long ago. Back when the biggest problems were early bedtimes, or begging your parents for the newest toys. When scraped knees and torn tights were a constant part of your life. In the 2nd grade when he was the new kid, you were too nervous to talk to him so you gave him a special Valentine’s Day card, the one with the carton fish with the really funny joke on it that made you giggle while you were placing various heart stickers on it, accompanied by two pieces of candy instead of one. One of your parents had helped you sign it specially with your name, not just your initials. Although it was scribbled it was still readable. You were nervous walking up to his desk, fixing your school uniform as best you could before shyly handing it to him, trying to hide the heat that was rising in your cheeks and ears.

“Hi.” Kun-Hang looked up at you, a look matching yours on his face. You saw his paper bag for his cards was bare, Kun-Hang covering the front of it in the teacher’s cursive due to him not having time to decorate it. It was empty, devoid of any Valentines, and he hadn’t brought any to give out so he didn’t even have his own. It was sad compared to yours, filled almost to the brim with cute cards and candy.

“Hi.” Hendery’s voice was almost a whisper. He wasn’t prepared for anyone to talk to him, he had only been in your class for a week and hadn’t had enough time to make friends.

“I want to be your friend. Here’s a Valentine’s card.” Where you ignored the heat in your cheeks it was obvious to see Kun-Hang’s awkward smile adorning his face as his cheeks glowed a light red. It was too late to back down now, so you thrust the card out towards him and watched as he timidly took it before sending him a bright smile and scurrying off to your desk, the teacher’s voice telling the class to calm down.

You looked towards the teacher, patiently waiting for their instruction while Kun-Hang only looked at you, awe in his eyes while replaying the moment you walked up to.

Years have gone by since that fateful day that you handed him the card and declared that you wanted to be his friend and you’re still just as close. The day after Valentine’s Kun-Hang stayed by your side faithfully, sitting beside you at lunch and playing with you and your friends at recess. At first he was still awkward, not knowing just where he fit into your life, but everytime you held your hand out to him or handed him a spare cookie from your lunchbox he got a little more comfortable until you were connected at the hip.

As the friend group gradually grew smaller due to everyone else moving away or transferring schools, you and Kun-Hang stayed together, evolving into something more than just childhood best-friends. Shared cookies turning into something else just as sweet, innocent pecks when you thought no one else was watching, holding hands having a new meaning when he pulls you under the bleachers of your high school during your share P.E. class to hold you close  as he whispers his feelings for you. He was your perfect love story, your first and only boyfriend. Even now at 20, watching him live his dream life as an idol you still have the same feeling from the first time you met him, that bashful shy feeling as you watching him smile on stage and during fanmeets. The pretty diamond ring on your finger glinting in the various strobe lights they use for their concert, a comforting weight that makes your heart flutter when you think about the day that the two of you will get married.

Life always throws a wrench into pretty plans don’t though.

“It’s just not working out with her.” Confusion filled your mind hearing Hendery’s voice through the phone. Calling out his name gave you no answer. “She’s so clingy, she refuses to back off and give me any space.”

“Aren’t you getting married?”

“I don’t think I can go through with it. I don’t want to leave her at the altar though.”

“I thought you guys were perfect for eachother? Haven’t you been together since middle school?”

“I know, I know. I don’t think I ever liked her in that way. She’s my only relationship but I just don’t see her in that light. She’s more like an annoying little sister than a girlfriend.”

“You’re a fucking douchebag Hendery.”

“I know. She really loves me, but I don’t think I ever saw her romanctically. She was the only option. I really don’t want to ruin the friendship, but I don’t love her.”

You don’t remember hanging up the phone. Or sending him the message.

You accidentally called me, you don’t have to be miserable just to make me happy. I’m sorry I couldn’t be good enough for you.

I didn’t want you to find out this way. I really do like you, you’re my best friend.

But you don’t love me the way that I love you

I’m sorry.

Don’t be sorry. Goodbye Hendery.

-

Hendery couldn’t ignore the smile that grew on his face, the heavy feeling over his chest lifting.

“What happened to you? Why are you so happy?” Ten questioned while chewing on the cookie he stole from Kun, slight concerned at how over the span of a half hour Hendery’s expression could go from forlorn over the thought of the wedding to ecstatic as he jumped up from the couch, staring at his phone that was clenched tightly in his hand.

“She broke up with me.” His smile grew impossibly bigger while Xiao’s face dropped. “I accidentally called her while we were talking and she said we don’t have to be together.” If Hendery wasn’t so busy cheering about his new found freedom he would’ve felt how the tensions rose in the room, or saw how Xiao looked at him with disgust as he slid his engagement ring off of his finger and tossed it on the coffee table. As if it meant nothing to him.

“So you used her?” An uneasy silence settled over the room while Yangyang made a quick exit, not wanting to witness anything. Hendery’s smile swiftly disappeared at Xiao’s accusatory tone. “And you’re celebrating your ‘freedom’ while she’s heart broken?” A cold chuckle punctuated his statement.

“I didn’t mean for her to overhear the conversation. But she broke up with me. If she’s hurt it’s her fault.” Hendery tried to plead his case, looking around at his other groupmates that were present but they refused to meet his eyes, all sharing Xiao’s sentiments on the situation. “I never wanted her to fall in love with me.”

Xiao couldn’t ignore the way that his fist shook hearing Hendery say that. He was already angered hearing how casually Hendery talked about his lack of feelings, no remorse evident in his voice. Clenching his jaw to hide the obscenities and curses that he wanted to spout on each of Hendery’s weekly rants about your relationship. But hearing just how casually he used you and didn’t care, that was Xiao’s last straw.

“So you fucking used her, and are now blaming it on her?” The room went stilent and the tension was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Xiao walked closer to Hendery, crossing the coffee table that kept them separated. Then he threw the first punch.

No one was expecting it, hearing the crack when Xiao’s fist connected with Hendery’s nose. Hendery didn’t have time to recover enough to retaliate before Lucas was picking Xiao off of his feet and hauling him out of the room. “Fucking stay away from her or I’ll fucking kill you.”

-

Xiao knew that it was stupid to fall for you, even dumber since you were head over heels in love with Hendery, someone who didn’t deserve even an ounce of you. He knew that you would never see him in that light, naively hung up on Hendery, so he did the next best thing. Become your friend.

Sure, he knew that he was only a rebound, only truly talking to you whenever Hendery was too busy - ignoring you - to entertain you, so you turned to Xiao. He knew that there was never way you would love him the way that he loved you, but he didn’t care. He’d be whatever you wanted him to be, even if it was perpetually stuck pining after you.

That’s the only explainable reason as to why he snuck out of the dorm after receiving the text from you.

I need you Dejun

It wasn’t hard to leave the dorm, Sicheng and Ten were too busy worrying about Hendery’s nose and if it was broken or not. All Xiao had to do was slip out of the front door. He didn’t bother asking the manager for a ride, walking would do just fine. Your apartment wasn’t too far from the dorm, there was no sweat off his back. Until the clouds broke open and it started to rain profusely when Xiao was only a block away from your apartment.

That explains why you answered the frantic knocking at your door to be met with a soaking wet Xiao, hair plastered to his forehead from the rain and shirt appearing like a second skin.

“What the hell happened? Come in, hurry.” Moving to the side you quickly pulled Xiao inside, feeling guilty at the way that he shook from the cold.

“It rained a little bit.” Despite the pain in your chest, and your eyes burning from the amount of tears that you had shed you couldn’t help but giggle.

“That’s an understatement. I’ll get you a towel and some clothes so you can change.”

Twenty minutes later the two of you were awkwardly facing eachother. You’ve never truly hung out by yourself, the boys were always a buffer between the two of you. The teddy bear that you were clutching against your chest being the only thing to separate you, your light pink blanket seeming almost childish with Xiao sitting on it. The gigantic hoodie that you stole from your brother draped over his frame, almost drowning him in the sheer amount of fabric.

“Are you okay?” He was the first to break the silence, eyes finally meeting yours and softening out of compassion. The sight of him pitying you caused the tears to prick at your eyes, glancing down while you absentmindely played with the fraying ends of the blanket.

“Why would I be? Hearing that my fiance didn’t love me. I was a burden to him our whole relationship. An annoying little sister.” Letting out a joyless chuckle at the irony of it all, a fiance that saw you as a little sister. You hadn’t realized that warm tears were falling down your cheeks, darkening the light pink fabric where they hit, littering it with drops of magenta. “How was I so stupid? I should’ve seen it comer when he started staying at the studio later and later when there was no comeback. Was he even staying at the studio? Was there someone else?” You looked up at Xiao, trying to blink away the blurry vision to find any answer for the questions you desperately asked. Xiao’s hand came up to cup your cheek, wiping the tears away. The sweet motion caused you to let out a sob, launching yourself into Xiao’s arm.

Xiao’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you onto his lap. You couldn’t be bothered to feel awkward or uncomfortable at the strange position, only burying your face into the hoodie and letting your tears soak the fabric. Xiao sighed, biting back his own emotions as he listened to you choke on your sobs, feeling your body shake with every wretched wail that left your mouth. All because of Hendery. If it weren’t for you clutching onto the fabric of the hoodie so tightly that it could rip out of fear of Xiao leaving he might’ve gone back to the dorm and broken Hendery’s jaw.

“He never deserved you.” Swallowing to hide the way that his voice attempted to crack Xiao continued, “ You are the sweetest, loveliest, gentliest, and purest person that I have ever met in my life. You care for everyone and everything no matter how small or significant they may seem. You loved Hendery with your whole heart, and he didn’t deserve to ever see that side of you.” Your sobbing had dissolved into meaningless sniffles, eyes still wet with tears as you listened to Xiao’s words.

“He’s the only person I’ve ever loved. I thought he was the one.”

“He wasn’t right for you. You’ll meet someone who is.” Xiao bit back the confession that he desperately wanted to say. He knew it wasn’t the right time. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence until the sounds of your stomach grumbling caused Xiao to sadly move you from his lap so that he could order the two of you food.

The silence remained even as the two of you ate, quietly munching as the ramen noodles brought a warmth back to you, hands shaking slightly from the after-cry headache that plagued you. Xiao grabbed your empty containers and bottles, throwing them away before appearing in your doorway again, wet clothes now wrapped in a bag.

“It’s pretty late. I’m going to go home.”

“You can stay. If you want.” The silence between the two of you was no longer comfortable.

“I’ll stay.”

If only you knew just how long he would.

-

“I’m so proud of you baby.” You whispered in his ear as he carried you back to the bedroom, adrenaline from WayV’s most recent win still coursing through his veins, if the way that he unlocked the front door and picked you up had anything to say about it.

“Owe it all to you. Always supporting me.” Both of you giggled as he hovered over you, hands on either side of your head while yours ran down his back, before tugging at the bottom of his sheer shirt, prompting him to take it off and throw it on the floor.

“Technically you started this two years ago by staying.” Xiao rolled his eyes before leaning down, placing a sweet kiss on your lips, barely giving you enough time to savor it before he was pulling away. Poking your lips out Xiao obliged, placing one, two, three more kisses before pulling away.

“I’m in love with you.” This wasn’t the first time he’s said it, but this confession made you burn from the inside out all the same. Heat rising up your neck all the way to your ears while butterflies pranced around in your stomach. Xiao’s eyes held the exact same emotion that they had two years ago when you asked him to stay that you now had a name for. It was pure adoration, and devotion. Love in simpler terms.

“I’m in love with you too.” Tangling your fingers into his hair you pulled him down into another kiss, a searing one deeper than the previous ones you had shared. His hand coming up and cupping your jaw caused you to pull away from the kiss, a bright smile on your face as you whispered two words that caused Xiao to kiss you until the both of you had to pull away for air in fear of suffocating. “Thank you.”

Sometimes, the right one get’s away to let a better one in. Thank you Hendery, you taught me how to love so I could love Xiao properly.

[cutie1365]

A Kid from Queens Part 21

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Info: CA: Civil War Era. Tony Stark enlists his daughter to find the web slinging spider in Queens.

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, language. (I had aged up Peter so he’s 18.)

A/N: Flashbacks in italics as usual :) I know it’s been forever, motivation is hard to come by these days. This is the longest thing I’ve ever written, it’s long enough to break into two chapters but I know I haven’t uploaded in a while so Merry Christmas lol.

Any and all feedback is much appreciated! Please please if you could just leave a little message of things you like or what you want to see in the future it really helps.

Masterlist linked in my bio. Taglist in the reblog.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Y/N! Y/N! Over here!” You heard your name called as Happy opens the limo door. He extends his hand to help you to your feet.

“Stark, look over here!” The paparazzi screams were almost deafening as Peter exited the car after you. His mask hid more of his features while yours left little to the imagination, they knew who you were already, so no point in trying to hide it.

“Behave.” Happy pointed a stern finger at you.

“Don’t I always.” You feigned offense as your hand clapped over your heart, he raised a brow as your mouth turned up into a smirk.

“Goodnight Happy.” You chuckled, turning and stepping onto the red carpet leading to the venue.

“Who are you wearing?” You heard different questions screamed in your direction. This was a charity gala after all, not the fucking Oscars. Who cares who made your dress?

You slipped your hand into Peters, trying to calm him. This had to be overwhelming, all the cameras in your face, screaming anything they can to get you to look their way.

“Dr. Stark!” One voice called, gaining your attention. Few people addressed you with your appropriate title. You turned to see a young woman, who didn’t look like she’s been on the job for very long. She was holding her own though, against all these ruthless reporters. You thought you saw The Bugle among them.

“Dr. Stark, Glory Grant from the Times.” She smiled once you looked her way. You took a step closer to her, nodding at her to let her know you were listening and she could continue, “Can you tell us why this cause is important to you?”

“Of course, every child’s life we can save is like an investment into our and their future. They’re going to be the ones to take over the world someday. Who knows who will be the next Einstein, or Madam Curie...” You began with a smile.

“Or Y/N Stark,” She smiled. You laughed, shaking your head humbly.

“If we can do our part in donating and relieving some of the financial burdens off of their parents then it’s worth it. This organization not only helps families and children currently fighting cancer, but it helps look for a cure. A permanent solution to help end this disease.” You spoke from your heart.

“Thank you so much Dr. Stark.” She smiled as she scribbled the last of your words onto her notepad.

“Are you new at the Times Ms. Grant?” You asked, taking another step closer to her and the barrier between the two of you.

“Yeah, I just started.” She smiled nervously.

“Can I borrow your pen?” You asked, and she handed you her pen and pad.

“That’s my work number. If you’d like to be added to the Stark Industries press board, give me a call. They’re the first ones we call about press releases and announcements.” You spoke as you scribbled it down, handing it back to her with a smile.

“Thank you so much Dr. Stark, but why are you helping me?” She furrowed her brows.

“Because it's a man's world, and we can help change that, one woman at a time,” You said, causing her to laugh, “You’re the only one here to actually address me by my title and not ask me about my outfit. I see a bright career ahead of you.” You nodded to her as you took a step back towards the middle of the carpet.

“Enjoy tonight,” she smiled, beaming at the new opportunity. You winked at her as you took Peter’s hand and led him along the carpet and up the stairs towards the venue.

“That was nice of you,” He squeezed your hand.

“I mean it’s effortless for me, but it will help kick start her career. I got this kinda third eye about people.” You smirked.

“That’s not a real thing.” He shook his head with a laugh.

“Sure it is. It’s not always perfect, but sometimes I can just tell when people are destined for something great. Like you, from the moment I met you I knew.” You turned towards him, taking his other hand in yours.

“You knew what?” He titled his head in confusion.

You leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips, forgetting you were at the top of the stairs and still in full sight of all the photographers. You saw the flashes but you didn’t care. Peter’s identity was safe with his mask, and you wanted the whole work to know how happy he made you.

“That you’re a good person, and you’re gonna do big things.” You beamed up at him as you pulled away from the kiss, turning to lead him inside.

“So what else can this third eye tell you?” He asked curiously.

“It’s kinda like a gut feeling, to trust someone or not trust them. Like fight or flight, something’s not right kinda feeling. I just trust my gut, ya know.” You shrugged.

“I think I know exactly what you mean.” He said, and you turned to him with a raised brow before remembering your conversation from a week ago.

“Oh that’s right, like your spidey senses.” You chuckled, making sure to keep your voice low.

“My what?” His eyes went wide.

“You said you can sense when something bad's gonna happen. Although mine isn’t as specific and can’t be attributed to a radioactive spider.” You chuckled, walking to a secluded corner of the ballroom.

“Shh someone could hear you.” He whispered, you smiled, shaking your head, knowing everyone’s always drunk at these sorts of things.

Turning to face Peter, you raised your hands to straighten his bow tie. Your mind wandered to how great he looked in his suit. The feeling of butterflies swirling in your belly from the moment you saw him step through your door a few hours ago had barely worn off.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Wow,” you both muttered as your eyes landed on each other. You’d never seen him all dressed up like this. He looked good, really good. You gulped, trying to push the dirty thoughts from your mind.

His hair was slicked back, not the mess of curls you were used to. He looked so grown up. You could almost picture him commanding a Stark Industries board meeting or standing at the end of an isle. Wait- slow down Y/N, jesus.

He looked so natural, so dapper, and then he turns and gives you that signature goofy smile- there he is. It brought a smile to your face. How did you get so lucky? How could you have landed a guy as great and handsome as Peter Parker. Were the girls at his school brain dead? You would think everyone would want him. Kind, sweet, intelligent, respectful, and Christ he cleans up well. He was everything you’d ever dreamed of.

Have you just been staring this whole time? Jesus, Y/N say something, he’ll think you’re crazy, you thought.

“Are you ready to go?” You asked, trying to compose yourself. He only nodded, still not able to formulate words.

You were wearing red. His red. No- not his red obviously, but the same color of his suit. And god he loved it. He felt like you were wearing a piece of him. Like he had marked you, you were his.

“You look...” He trailed off, his eyes still wide. He cleared his throat and smiled, trying to compose himself. You could almost hear his internal monologue urging him on - Come on Peter, keep it together..., “You look... God Y/N. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” You blushed. Of course that wasn’t the first time someone had told you that, but coming from Peter it felt different, “You look so handsome. Not your usual kind of suit, huh?” You smirked, causing him to chuckle as he pulled on his sleeves.

“I have your mask.” You smiled, still admiring him, holding the mask out to him.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Why doesn’t your mask hide your identity?” Peter asked, as the two of you watched more and more people file into the ballroom.

“Because people will know who I am anyway, and I’m not hiding.” You explained.

“How will they know?” He furrowed his brows, you shook your wrist in response.

“I don’t know anyone else with a custom blaster built into a bracelet. I’m also on the younger side, and pulled up in a ride with Stark Industries plates, so it wouldn’t take a genius.” You smiled, starting to recognize a few faces of regulars as you people watched.

“Do you always wear that thing?” He asked, holding up your wrist and examining it.

“No, I’ve got a watch for day to day wear that does the same thing. Dad may not give me a suit, but he won’t leave me completely defenseless. And it has come in handy.” You trailed off, remembering the not so fond memories of the last time you used it. Your ribs still ached if you thought about it long enough.

“Let’s hope you don’t have to use it tonight.” Peter said, craving one normal night without having to be a hero.

“Someone would have to be very ambitious to attack this place, they’ve got security out the wazoo.” You brushed off, praying tonight would go well.

A hush fell over the crowd as the charity president walked onto the stage and welcomed everyone. You felt Peter’s hand slip around your waist protectively as everyone pushed a little closer to the stage to hear. This part was pretty standard, basically a little speech to kick off the  night, a thank you for coming, and who to make all checks out to. Music filled the ballroom as the band began playing after the applause for the speaker died down.

“I’ll get us something to drink.” Peter nodded off towards the open bar.

You nod as he walks off and turn to admire the ballroom. Your eyes soon land on a familiar face.

“Dr. Strange,” You smile, greeting him.

“Dr. Stark,” He nods. You’d met a few times at these sorts of events. You hadn’t seen him for a while though, and there were rumors of an accident.

“How are you Stephen? I haven’t seen you since...” You paused to trying and remember, “Was it that benefit for the hospital a year ago?”

“Had to be, I’ve been... traveling.” He stated ominously. You glanced down to see the long thin scars along his fingers.

“Well it’s nice to have you back.” You smiled.

Peter now rejoined you at your side, slipping a drink into your hands- non-alcoholic of course, per May’s request. His other hand found its way to the small of your back.

“Peter, this is Dr. Stephen Strange.” You introduced him.

“Peter Parker,” He smiled, shaking the doctor’s hand. Something you couldn’t describe flashed over Peter’s eyes as they shook hands. Like a gut feeling he couldn’t quite place. For some reason his spidey senses were going off.

“Enjoy your evening, I need to check in at work.” Strange gave a curt nod and smile as he said his goodbyes. As he walked past you he dropped his voice to a whisper and spoke into your ear, “I like this one much better than the last.”

“Me too,” You whispered back with a smirk.

“So... how do you know him?” Peter asked curiously as the doctor excused himself to call the hospital.

“We run in the same circles, it’s a lot of the same people that come to these sorts of things. His hospital donates a lot of money to these causes and when he pisses off the board they send him to represent them as punishment.” You explained.

“This is a punishment?” Peter asked, dumbfounded.

“For a neurosurgeon it might just be,” You laughed, shaking your head, “I’m surprised he’s here.”

“Why?” He furrowed his brows.

“I heard he was in an accident not too far back. A bad one. I didn’t know he had gone back to work. Hmm...” You looked off to where the man had disappeared to.

“Care to dance, Parker?” You changed the subject, taking his hand into yours and placing your drinks onto the nearest table.

As the song changed to I Only Have Eyes For You by The Flamingos, he held you in his arms, swaying slowly. You were lost in him, hours could have passed, or seconds. As your bodies were pressed together you felt a sensation you could only describe as home.

“So has it been everything you dreamed it would be? These stuffy formalities for rich people to get drunk and spend money.” You chuckled as you looked up at him.

“It’s beautiful, but I guess, I mean it seems so glamorous from the outside.” He shook his head.

“Sorry to burst the bubble for you. It’s a little less Gatsby, and a little more, middle aged businessman doing coke in the bathroom.” You quipped.

Peter’s head immediately whipped towards the bathroom door where two men were emerging, one rubbing his nose.

“No way...” He looked back to you with wide eyes.

“You’d be surprised.” You chuckled.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

After a little more dancing and mingling you and Peter made your way out onto the deserted balcony.

“Are you cold?” He asked, as he leaned onto the railing next to you. You were hiding it well but he still sensed it.

“A little.” You chuckled, cursing those spidey senses for giving you away.

Peter slipped off his coat and placed it over your shoulders. You thanked him as you turned to admire the moonlit lake below you. It was so quiet and peaceful, untouched by the party going on just on the other side of the glass doors.

“Did you have a good day?” Peter asked.

“Perfect.” You looked up to him and smiled, and you meant it.

“Um, so, Happy told me that you don’t like to celebrate your birthday but,” Peter began to speak, nervously. Your eyes grew wide, how in the world did he know it was your birthday? That was the one day you liked to keep private and out of the press. Only the Avengers, Pepper and Happy knew when it was. “I wanted to give you this. Everyone deserves at least one present on their birthday.”

“Peter you didn’t-” You shook your head, before he cut you off.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. And don’t worry, Mr. Stark swore me to secrecy so I won’t go announcing it to the world.” He reassured you as he reached into his pocket to pull out a little box.

“I know it’s not much, and I’m sure you have a million other fancy things, but I wanted you to have this.” Peter opened the box nervously, revealing a necklace. It was a single pearl and diamond dangling from a silver chain. Simple, but beautiful. “It was my mothers. Aunt May said that my dad gave it to her on their wedding day.”

Your jaw dropped slightly and your hand went over your heart.

“Peter, I-” How could you accept this? It was probably one of the last bits he had of his mother and he was just giving it away? You knew how much they meant to him, and he’d been through so much. With losing both parents so young and then his Uncle Ben not that long ago. Tears began to pool up in your eyes. Did he really care about you that much to part with something this important?

“Are you sure?” You asked softly.

“Of course I am. She would have loved you. She would have wanted you to have it.” Peter spoke, slipping the necklace on you as a single tear slipped down your cheek.

You turned back to him with a smile, he gently rubbed his thumb across your cheek to wipe the tear away. He didn’t know what to say- actually that’s a lie. He knew exactly what three words he wanted to say, but he thought it might be too soon and he might scare you. He absolutely didn’t want that. So he just smiled at you as you leaned in to kiss him.

You pulled away and wiped your tears, trying your best not to mess up your makeup.

“Thank you Peter.” You sniffled, chuckling at how silly you were being.

“Happy birthday.” He beamed as you heard the band strike up a slow song inside. He extended his hand to you, “Y/N Stark, can I have this dance?”

There was that goofy smile again, causing you to giggle as you placed your hand in his. He pulled you close, you rest your head on his shoulder as you both sway to the music. And for once in your life, everything was perfect.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

After everyone had said their goodbyes and they ushered you out of the venue, you and Peter began your short walk through the park to the Plaza Hotel across the street.

“Tonight was like a dream,” You said, as you swung your intertwined hands slightly.

“Haven’t you been to a million of these things.” Peter chuckled and shook his head.

“Yes, but I’ve never been to one with someone I love and it’s a very different experience I’ve learned.” You spoke, causing Peter to stop.

You turned to face him as you noticed his wide eyes, not believing the words that just came out of your mouth. It took him a minute to process. One, that meant you loved him. And two, that meant you were never in love with Thomas, since you’d been to these events with him before.

“Ok, you’re kinda scaring me now Peter,” You laughed nervously at his awestruck state.

“You love me?” He asked, and you answered with a nod and a smile.

He placed his hands on either side of your face and pulled you into a sweeping kiss.

“Am I dreaming?” Peter asks, pulling away, looking for any sign on your face that this was all some sort of joke.

“I sure hope not,” You chuckle.

“I love you too,” Peter beams at you, pulling you into another kiss.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Woah...” You and Peter both mutter as you push open the door to your hotel room. Now this was fancy. You felt like you were in a room in Buckingham Palace.

You both walked around, inspecting the room as you dropped your coats. You saw your bags in the corner that had already been brought up. You ran your hand over one of the pillows on the huge California King sized bed as your lips morphed into a smirk and an idea popped into your head. You clutched onto the pillow with one of your perfectly manicured hands as you spun around, whacking Peter with it.

“Hey!” He yelped, eyes growing wide at what you’d just done.

“Come on Parker, let’s see what you’ve got.” You tossed him another pillow from the bed with a smirk.

“O you’re gonna regret this,” He stalked towards you. You kicked off your heels and jumped onto the bed, standing up on your knees.

He swung his pillow as you ducked, it just missed you. You took the opportunity to whack him again. He looked at you with wide eyes, thinking, How had he missed?

“What? Couldn’t see that coming, bug boy?” You laughed. Taking those few seconds to gloat had proved fatal as you felt his pillow attack your side.

“Oof,” You feigned pain as you dropped backwards until your back hit the bed.

“Are you ok?” Peter asked, worried, thinking he’d really hurt you. With his super strength he was never sure.

You waited until he was kneeling next to you to jump into action, according to your plan. You jumped up, pushing him back onto the bed as you straddle him, grabbing your pillow and smacking him a few times.

“Ok, ok, you win!” Peter cried out, forfeiting.

“Yes!” You threw your pillow up in the air in victory. Peter looked up at you, still on top of him with your hair now a mess, hanging all around your face. He cherished the genuine smile on your face. All he wanted to do was kiss you, you looked so happy.

You crawled off of him and back onto the floor where you extended your hand to help him up. As he placed his hand into yours and rose to his feet, you didn’t notice his left hand reach for the pillow. Before you knew it, there was a pillow lightly thrown in your face.

“Peter!” You squealed through laughter. He knew you were about to retaliate when you reached for your own pillow on the bed. But he was faster, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you away.

“Come on, truce?” He asked as you struggled against his arms.

“Fine, truce.” You said, shaking his extended hand as he let you go.

“Hungry?” You asked, reaching for the room service menu on the desk and flipping through it.

“Starving.” He said, reading it over your shoulder.

After you had called in the food, you walked over to explore the rest of the room.

“They said it will be about an hour.” You told Peter, as you pushed open the door to the bathroom.

“So what do we do til then?” He asked, but you didn’t hear him.

“Jesus, look at the size of that tub.” You exclaimed, and Peter came over to your side to get a look at it too.

“Wow,” He said when his eyes landed on the giant clawfoot tub, “Um we definitely have to use that.”

You turned to face him with a smile.

“Really? You’d wanna do that?” You asked, who knew Peter Parker was a sucker for bubble baths.

“Absolutely. And do they have those big fluffy robes like in the movies?” He asked, excitedly, like a kid on Christmas.

You walked over to the closet and pulled the doors open, revealing two robes as described. You pulled them out and presented them to him.

“Cool...” His eyes lit up as he felt the material between his fingers.

You started to run the water, adding bath salts and bubbles, knowing it would take a while to fill the whole thing. Your things had already been brought to the room before you got there, so you got to work taking off your makeup and letting your now messy hair down.

You tried to reach for your zipper, as your body cried to be released from this skin tight dress.

“Hey Pete,” You called, and he strolled in the bathroom, now only wearing his dress pants and no shirt... and the butterflies were back. God how could he look that good, you stared shamelessly.

“You called?” He smirked, breaking your train of thought.

“Oh um, can you help me with my zipper?” You blushed, knowing you’d been caught.

“Mhm, turn around.” He instructed, before his fingers found the metal pull tab and he slowly worked it down, revealing more and more skin.

“There you go.” He smiled, placing a kiss on your shoulder, his gentle action nearly making you swoon. “I think the water’s ready if you want me to turn off the tap.”

“Yeah, yeah go ahead.” You nodded. You watched him turn off the spout and slip off his dress pants until he was just in his boxers. He folded them and set them aside before looking up to you. You were still holding your dress against your chest to keep it up, as the back gaped open and the thin straps slipped down your arms.

“Do you need help with that?” Peter asked, pointing to your dress, thinking you might need help taking it off. You thought you could manage, but on second thought you might need help. It was a tight dress and your stylist had helped you into it. You only nodded in response as Peter moved behind you. He gently helped you slip your arms through the straps and pulled the fabric down your body. He gave the fabric a quick tug as it struggled to get past your hips. You were now exposed in front of him. The dress was too tight for you to wear any sort of undergarments. He took you in for a moment before shifting his attention respectfully to the red indentations down your side from where the seams of the dress dug into you.

“Does this hurt?” He asked, gently rubbing his fingers down them.

“Not really,” You shook your head. He reached out his hand to help you into the tub without slipping.

You sank into the warm water as Peter dropped his boxers and joined you. Your eyes went wide at the size of him, and you looked away, a blush slowly crept onto your cheeks.

He must have noticed because the next thing you knew, a splash of water was hitting your face. You looked back to him in shock, he was sitting back laughing. You flicked your hand through the water, splashing him back.

You moved to do it again, but he grabbed your wrist, stopping you. You knew it was a good idea, if the two of you started going at it again like in the pillow fight, it would lead to a mess and an expensive clean up bill.

“Do they always book rooms this fancy for the galas?” Peter asked, taking in the room once more.

“I don’t know, this was the first time I’ve accepted it.” You shrugged, following his gaze up to the gold crown molding and chandelier.

“Really? I thought you did this all the time.” Peter assumed.

“No, I don’t make it a habit of jumping into tubs with strange men.” You joked.

“That’s not what I meant, and I’m not a strange man, I’m your boyfriend.” He teased as he pulled you towards him. You chuckled and placed your lips onto his quickly before pulling away.

“Say it again.” You smiled. He furrowed his brows for a moment before smiling.

“I’m... your... boyfriend.” He said slowly, placing a kiss on either cheek between words, his lips landing on yours after his last word.

He now had his arms around your waist, pulling you close as your lips collided. When you broke apart for air, he looked down at the necklace around your neck and smiled.

“This is a dream right? I’m dreaming.” Peter shook his head with a goofy grin, not being able to believe his eyes.

“Does this feel like a dream?” You asked, taking both of his hands and placing them onto your breasts. He responded by crashing his lips onto yours, he groaned against your mouth as he pulled you closer.

“It’s nice to know you dream about me Parker.” You quipped with a smirk as you broke apart for air. He chuckled at your cockiness.

“All the time, baby.” He replied, and the pet name rolled off his tongue before he even realized what he said. God you almost melted at the sound. It was your turn to crash your lips against his and let out a moan as his hand traveled down to squeeze your ass.

A knock at the door pulled you both apart as you stared at each other with wide eyes.

“Room service!” A voice called, causing you both to let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

The two of you sat at the dining table, both in your white fluffy robes with nearly dripping wet hair.

“God this is so good.” Peter said, stuffing his mouth.

“Mm, I know, I didn’t realize I was this hungry.” You said, doing the same. Who knew fancy hotels made burgers and fries this good.

You picked up a fry from your plate, waving it at Peter.

“Ready? Catch.” You said as you threw it across the table as Peter caught it in his mouth.

“Ok your turn,” Peter said, tossing one of his. You leaned to the side, nearly missing it, but catching it in your mouth. You thrust your fists in the air in celebration, causing Peter to chuckle.

The two of you ate and talked, before cleaning up.

“Ugh, I’m so full.” You groaned, falling back onto the bed, rubbing your full stomach, causing Peter to laugh.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Peter asked.

“Oo yeah, we should probably get out of these robes though.” You said, moving from the bed, not wanting to get it all wet.

“Here,” Peter said, moving to his duffle bag and tossing you one of his t-shirts. You slipped it on as he slipped on some boxers and hung up your robes. You glanced down at the Midtown Tech logo and smiled. The fabric fell down to the middle of your thigh.

“I like seeing you in my clothes.” Peter smiled as he approached you sitting on the edge of the bed and pulled you into a chaste kiss.

“Cafeul, soon all your sweatshirts are gonna go missing.” You said, making him laugh.

Peter sat with his back against the headboard, and motioned you over to him. You crawled across the bed and laid into his side as he wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you close. He held the remote in his other hand, scrolling through options on the large screen.

“Have you seen this?” Peter motioned towards the screen.

“That’s my favorite movie.” You chuckled, smiling up at him as he immediately pressed start.

Peter absentmindedly played with your hair as the movie went on. As the credits rolled a few hours later you leaned up to face Peter.

“Thank you for today. As birthdays go, I gotta say this may be my best yet.” You spoke genuinely.

“Well it’s not over yet.” He stated after glancing at the clock on the bedside table.

“It’s not?” You smirk, as he pulls you closer.

“I think we were interrupted earlier.” He said slowly, a blush returning to your cheeks as you remembered the events that took place, or almost took place in the bathtub a few hours earlier.

“I think you’re right.” You whispered back, as you climbed onto his lap as his lips intertwined with yours.

You’ve kissed him before, that wasn’t new, but this time something was different. There was a hunger you couldn’t quite describe. His hands began to roam your body, trying to take in every inch of you. A strong arm wrapped around your waist, lifted you, and laid you down onto the bed as Peter now hovered over you.

You gasped at the sudden movement before smiling as Peter lowered his lips to yours once more.

“Y/N,” He said, making you stop and open your eyes, worriedly. Was he ok? Was this too much?

“I’ve never...” He began, nervously.

“That’s ok Peter, we don’t have to-” You tried to reassure him, but he shook his head.

“I want to, God I want to. I want to make you feel good.” He said, his hand traveling up your shirt and resting on your waist.

“Are you sure?” You asked, not wanting to push him into something he wasn’t ready for.

He nodded, muttering a yes as he brought his lips down to you once more, before pulling away.

“Are you?” He asked, making sure this wasn’t one sided.

“Absolutely.” You smiled, taking in the sight of him above you, reaching up to gently move a curl that was falling onto his face, brushing his hair back with your fingers.

And for the first time in your life, you realized why it was called ‘making love’. As much as the phrase made you cringe. As much as you hated when people said that, that was the only way you could think to describe what you and Peter just did. It was sweet but passionate. Peter was gentle yet ruthless in all the right ways. You figured it out together, through the giggles and moans. And as first times go, it was perfect.

For one night you got to be kids. Of course you were adults, just barely. But the two of you had more weight on your shoulders than most adults would ever have. You had responsibilities, that the safety of the city and the world depended on. But for one night, you got to be normal, you got to be kids. For one night you were free, and you cherished it, because neither of you knew how long it would last.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated! 

TAGLIST in Reblog

[monkeebratz]

Gotham Seamstress Marinette - Wayne Gala

I should sTILL BE UPDATING BIO!DAD BUT HERE I AM AGAIN

Initial Idea | Uncle Ozzy | Wayne Gala (you are here) |

So we have the whole Cobblepot Crew at the Wayne Gala. Mari is off wondering, scribbling away in a palm sized sketchbook all the ideas this beautiful place is giving her! (She smuggled it, along with Tikki and Sass, in her purse. Its a little crowded but they can snuggle.) Peri is following behind her quietly, smiling to herself. Not that anybody can see. 

Meanwhile Gale and Ozzy have started talking to dear ol’ Brucie boy. At this point, its been a couple years since Ozzy has declared his vendetta and has calmed the fuck down. It also helps that Bruce is not suck a dick about things and Ozzy can relax the stuffy old Gothamite Socialite act around him. They get to talking and Bruce kinda chuckles about how he heard Oswald brought a plus one? Who’s the lucky lady? And he points out Mari, who’s slowly making their way back to the Cobblepot Crew with Peri gently steering her in that direction. And Bruce, dad of all dads, immediately sorta puffs up. “Oswald.” 

“Eh? What, Brucie boy?” 

“That’s your plus one? She can’t be any older than my youngest-” 

“Oh, get your bird-brain out of the gutter! Just doing this as a little favor to the girl, she’s my favorite seamstress, y’know. Made me and the Girls outfits for this little soiree, her own dress too. Figured I’d get her some more... legitimate business, you see. Sweet songbird’s had a rough go, recently.” 

And Bruce is even MORE side eye-ing bc wtf does all THAT mean, Cobblepot? Wtf? Should he be Batman concerned or Bruce Wayne concerned? There’ll be a full blown investigation in the Bat Cave when he gets home from this but for now he puts on a smile as Oswald introduces them. Mari is, of course, completely flustered. What an honor to meet Mr. Wayne himself! The Gala is so pretty, and she’s heard all about his charitable work, she’s such a fan! 

Bruce is kinda blown away by this little French Sunshine Child and gives her the Father Smile, letting her ramble. Ozzy is preening bc hell yes, his Songbird has Bruce Wayne’s approval. Bruce asks about her designs for the Cobblepot Crew and commends her skills. Gets Mari out for a dance and then she’s dancing with everybody! Bruce, Ozzy, the Girls, even some strangers. Its a great time! 

Bruce introduces Mari to Damien, who is unimpressed and bored out of his mind. He can appreciate the aesthetics of Mari’s designs but holds to the idea that she shouldn’t be so willing to design for criminals like The Penguin. Not that he says any of this out loud, of course. Offers to take Mari out for a dance and there’s a lot of Mari apologizing for being such a horrible dancer. (It was one thing with the Cobblepot Crew, who she knew didn’t mind, or Bruce, who seemed so nice. But Damien is sorta angry looking and she’s nervous as hell.) Damien tells her its no problem and manages to lead her around with minimal toe tromping. 

BUUUUUT of course this couldn’t last, right? A certain blonde model boy notices Mari and breaks up their dance. In the middle of the dance floor. Like the oblivious boy he is. 

And you have panicked French as Adrian grabs Mari’s arm and keeps going on about how glad he is to see her! Where has she been, doesn’t she know how worried everybody has been? Mari, how could she leave him like that? Really, he knew she was upset about the little mishap with their identities and his Father, but did she have to throw such a tantrum about it? 

Marinette, meanwhile, is digging her nails into his wrist and trying to get him off of her, practically tripping on her dress in her haste to get away. Adrian still has a firm grip on her arm, though, and she falls back into Damien who, in perfect French, is asking what the hell does he think he’s doing Agreste? And Adrian puffs up and tells him that he doesn’t need to worry about it, its none of his business-! 

(Mari stops panicking long enough to catch Ozzy’s eye and the Girls make their way over with extreme prejudiced. None of them notice Marinette grabbing something from Adrian’s finger and slipping it into her purse. Nobody but Damien.) 

The Girls pull Adrian away from Mari and Damien and there have their claw hands out, making those upset bird coos. Adrian is kicking about and Bruce is getting an explanation from his son, while Ozzy is trying to comfort Marinette. Its a disaster. 

And then. It gets worse. Because Gabriel fucking Agreste notices the commotion and his sons name attached to it and goes over to figure out what the hell is going on. 

He grips the back of Adrian’s neck and shakes him a bit because he recognizes Mari and, of course, apologizes profusely for his behavior Miss Marin-

“Mari. Its... Its just Mari, now.” 

And Gabriel just nods and apologizes again. “Miss Mari, then. I’m sure this incident will not affect our... agreement?” And Marinette shakes her head and Gabriel nods again and drags Adrian off to leave because not only is this embarrassing, this could jeopardize everything! You stupid, stupid boy!

Mari’s scrubbing tears away from her face and Bruce is apologizing profusely, he had no idea she knew the Agreste’s, or he’d have ensured they didn’t have to interact, and Mari tells him its fine, he couldn’t have known. 

Ozzy bundles her up and takes her back to Arthur’s and seethes. The Agreste’s might be having a little accident soon. He drops her off and Mari shuts herself up in her room and slips on the ring and Plagg fizzes into existence and Tikki tackles him and its an emotional night for everybody. 

Because you see, when Marinette has found out Gabriel and Adrian’s identities as Hawkmoth and Chat Noir, she’d panicked, and when she’d confronted Gabriel and learned why he was doing what he did... She helped him. Used her Guardian training, and Tikki, to fix the Peacock Miraculous, and heal Mrs. Agreste. In return, Gabriel gave her both the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculi back, saying good riddance as long as he had his wife back. Marinette agreed to keep this between them, as long as he worked to fixing the damage he’d caused, with the city, its people, and his family. And Gabriel has sworn to, less she go back on her own promise to ensure Mrs. Agreste’s health. 

Adrian had, of course, figured out Marinette’s identity as Ladybug, and what she had done for his family, and gotten... worse. Not horrible, really, but gradually going from not taking her denial of his advances but becoming more and more pushy about it. Because of course they were meant to be together! And idk if any of you have ever dealt with men like this but its awful. Because Adrian doesn’t understand that what he’s doing is only scaring Mari, and the worse he gets, the more scared she gets. The more desperate to get away. And one day, when Fu names her the official Guardian, she does. She flees to Gotham and never looks back, because Fu remembers so little now, and her family had ignored how her love for Adrian had turned into fear. Everybody had. 

So she left. And here she was. 

(As far as the Fu thing goes, I haven’t watched season 3′s finale(s) so please don’t spoil them. The idea of Fu losing his memories has more to do with the fact that he’s almost 200 years old and the human body just isn’t made to last that long, magic or no magic. So he starts losing his memory and doesn’t always recognize Marinette so in a moment of clarity he passes the torch, unfinished training or not. Marianne comes to live with Fu and take care of him, remind him of things. They didn’t have their time in their prime, but they’ll take it now.) 

Tag List! If you’d like to be added, please send me an ask! Just a little easier for me to keep track of that way, lol

@destinationdesignation @xxmadamjinxx @emjrabbitwolf @meg-chi @officiallyathiana @graduatedmelon @seraphichana (I’m so sorry I can’t figure out why it won’t tag you?) @theatreandcomicfreak @beaversuenightly @7701deathlyhalfbloodprincess

[thiswasinevitableid]

#08 with Danbrey, sfw please!

Here you go!

08.  I wrote my crush a note except I started it with ‘dear you’ and my friend stuck it into the wrong locker and now you think I have a crush on you 

“Dude, chill, you look like you’re gonna pass out in lunch.”

“I’m fine, totally fine.” Aubrey continues jiggling her leg and scanning the quad.

“Gotta side with Jake on this one” Duck pokes her with her unopened tupperware of salad, “c’mon, can’t work your charm on an empty stomach.”

“But what if it slipped out, or I wrote the directions wrong, or she loses it-”

“Dude, I put it in the locker myself, super careful and shit.”

“Uh, Aubrey, is that her?”

“Huh? Uh nope” Aubrey follows Duck’s pointer finger to a blonde girl in a green sweater and copper skirt who is clearly looking for someone. She’s cute, but she’s not who Aubrey is hoping to see.

“You sure? Because now she’s lookin’ right at us.”

Aubrey’s glad she hasn’t eaten, because it would be making it’s way back up. 

“Jake, what locker did you put the note in?”

“453?”

“453 B?”

“There’s more than one?”

“That’s the section of school that has an upper and lower level!” Aubrey squeak-hisses as the girl notices her.

“Ohhhhh. Sorry dude.”

Duck whacks his hand against his forehead as Aubrey goes deer in headlights under hazel eyes. 

“Uh, hi, Aubrey?”

“Yep.”

“I found this in my locker. I, we have bio and english together, but I hadn’t realized you’d been paying that much attention to me.”

“Yep, I sure have.” Aubrey can’t stop smiling; it’s like some kind of horrible survival mechanism. Crap, what is this girl’s name?

The sweet smile falters, “you don’t know I am, do you?”

“Nope.”

“Oh. I mean, I guess ‘dear you’ is kind of vague, so maybe I shouldn’t have assumed, but it was in my locker.”

“There was, um, a mix-up, it was supposed to go in someone else’s but the messenger messed up.”

“Sorry.” Jake gives his best baby-seal sad eyes.

“Okay.” The girl says, sheen of friendliness over her disappointment, “that’s, that’s totally fine. Mistakes happen. Here” she hands back the note, “so you can try again.”

Aubrey takes it, watches her turn, and lets her guilt the better of her, “wait, um, uh, um-”

“Dani.” The girl says flatly.

“Dani, right. Would you, like, want to come to this magic show I’m doing tonight? You seem super cool and my act is pretty good. Duck and Jake are coming, right guys?”

“Apparently.” Duck looks at Jake, who shrugs. 

“Uh, sure. That sounds cool.

“Cool. Cool cool.” Aubrey hurriedly scribbles her phone number and the address of the cafe on the back of the mis-delivered note, “see you then.”

As they watch Dani walk away, Duck leans over and mumbles, “did you just ask a girl you barely know on a date?”

“No, I asked her to come to my show. Totally not a date.”

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

Okay, so this totally isn’t a date. Dani finds a spot on the right side of the room, sets her chai latte and scoots the chair across the scratched hardwood.

But if it’s not a date, then where are Aubrey’s two friends? Aubrey asking her feels pretty date-ish (unbeknownst to her, Jake has fallen asleep and Duck is busy “studying” with his boyfriend). 

Aubrey takes the stage to mild applause and Dani sighs; she looks so cool, so pretty in her magicians outfit. Just like she looks cool and pretty in her denim vest and combat boots at school, or when she’s staring out the window during class and the light hits her face and hair just right and she looks like a painting. 

Dani’s had a crush on her since the fall, has brainstormed with her best friend, Barclay, how to ask her out. But when they inevitably come to the conclusion that asking her out involves actually talking to her, Dani panics and gives up. 

When she’d found the note, she couldn’t believe her luck. Then, when she learned the truth, she still couldn’t believe it, because man was that some shitty luck. 

Aubrey runs through her act, Dani entranced every moment of it. She’s even more dynamic onstage than she is in class, her energy coursing through the room and making everyone turn and look at her. She has a minor hiccup when her animal assistant, Dr. Harris Bonkers, PhD, runs off with her prop, but she plays it off and has the audience laughing as she sets the indignant bunny back on his spot. 

When the show is over, Dani goes to join her as she packs up her stuff. 

“That was so cool.”

“Thanks!”

“Seriously, it was like you’re a professional, you were so incredible up there.”

“Practicing in the bathroom mirror works wonders. And annoys my dad when I do it for two hours non-stop.”

“How’d you do the thing with the fire and the coin? Oh, wait, you're not supposed to reveal your secrets right?”

“I mean that’s kinda like the magician’s code, but…” Aubrey smiles teasingly, tapping her chin in exaggerated thought. 

“Please?” Dani bats her eyelashes, making Aubrey giggle, a sound that’s even better up close, and the reaction emboldens her, “what if I buy you ice cream as a trade?”

“Pretty sure I can, like, bend the code for that.” She hoists her bag over one shoulder and lifts Dr. Harris Bonker’s carrier with her hand, “let me just put some stuff in my car first.”

Soon they’re sitting at the nearby Yogurt Castle, on a stone bench outside since they have the rabbit with them. Dani takes a sliced strawberry from the top of her cone and holds it up to the carrier. The rabbit chomps down and devours the fruit with alarming speed. 

“Hungry bunny.” 

“He wants you to think I never feed him so he’ll get more strawberries. But I do. When I first got him I gave him too many treats and he wouldn’t fit in the compartment for the hat trick.”

“Did he have to go on a bunny diet?”

“Yep” Aubrey licks her spoon and Dani blushes, hoping the darkness covers it, “he ate my boots in revenge.”

“Dr. Harris Bonker’s, that was very rude.”

Aubrey nudges their feet together, “thanks for using his full title, he worked hard for that PhD.”

They spend the next hour just chatting, and Dani learns that Aubrey likes most of the same bands as her and that her face crinkles in the most adorable way when she grins. 

“Hey” Aubrey touches her arm as they’re walking back to their cars, “I really liked hanging out with you. Do you, um, wanna hang out again sometime?”

“That sounds great.” 

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

“See, when they’re planted like this, the marigolds help keep aphids away.” Dani finishes patting soil around the small plants, budding but not yet blooming. 

“Wow. It’s like natures bug control.”

“Yep” Dani nods, adjusting her straw hat, “we try really hard not to use pesticides and stuff in the community gardens. C’mon, let’s go check on the strawberries.”

Aubrey takes her offered hand, standing and following her through the rows of seedlings and saplings, spring sun soaking into her shoulders. She’s been spending more and more of her weekends here in the gardens with Dani helping her when she can and talking with her while she tends to her patches of the space. Dr. Harris Bonkers comes sometimes, Dani insisting that his nibbling on plants is offset by the fact that his poop is excellent compost. Aubrey comes to give them both fresh air, to give the rabbit some enrichment and herself the chance to learn something totally new. 

But mostly she comes because Dani is here. 

The crush crept up on her little by little, solidified the day Dani suggested they go on a picnic and then made a mini-salad for Dr. Harris Bonkers. Aubrey’s had plenty of crushes over this year, but with Dani it’s like someone whacked her in the head with the two-by-four of love. 

Dani kneels down in the earth by the strawberry plants, looking at the leaves and little unripe berries to make sure they’re growing okay. Her hair drapes like molten gold across her face and shoulders, and when she brushes it out of the way she leaves a streak of dirt on her cheek, laugh like a birdsong when she notices. She looks like a goddess, some ethereal creature of sunlight and growth sent to earth. And Aubrey is ready to worship her. 

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

“Aubrey, you know you can just ask her out for real, right?”

“But what if she doesn’t believe me or thinks it’s a mistake again or she actually isn’t interested in me but is just being super nice and touchy-feely in a friend way?”

“Because none of that sounds like her?”

“Agggh, what do I do Duck?”

“Please just ask her out already.” Rumbles a voice behind them. 

Aubrey and Duck jolt, tun to find the source of the voice is Barclay, Dani’s friend. 

“Seriously, all she does is talk about you, which is good because I like seeing her happy, but if I have to hear her agonizing over whether you like-like her one more time, I’m gonna lose it.”

“Is that enough proof?”

“But, like, what if-”

“Aubrey” Duck crosses his arms, “just ask her, or I’m goin’ back on my promise to bunny-sit.”

“Fine.”

“Thank fuck.”

“And I think I, like, maybe have an idea about how to do it…

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

The note falls out when she opens her locker after school.

Dear you, meet me by the red benches out front. Love, your secret admirer

She crosses her fingers and toes as she walks out to the front of the school, hoping to see black hair and a freckled, smiling face waiting for her on that bench. 

She does. 

“Um, hey.” Aubrey keeps looking nervously down at her shoes.

“This isn’t another mistake, right?”

“Nope. I wanted to ask you out because I’ve got a big fucking crush on you, cutie.”

Dani drops down onto the bench with relief, “thank god because I could not handle that mix-up twice. I have a huge crush on you too, fireblossom. I have for months.”

“Hold the fuck on, months? Like, before we were hanging out? Ugh, oh god, the first note, now I feel like even more of a jerk for the mistake.”

Dani loops her arm over Aubrey’s shoulder, “want to know how to make it up to me?”

“Hoo boy do I.”

Dani cups her chin, leans in and kisses her gently. Aubrey sighs, scooting closer as the kiss deepens and finally ending up in her lap. When they break apart, Aubrey bumps their noses together in what she always calls a bunny kiss. 

“Sooooooo this means you want to go out with me, right?” Aubrey smiles, only half-joking. 

“Yes, hot stuff, it does.”

Aubrey sighs, kisses her neck before resting against her. And for the third time in months, Dani can’t believe her luck.  

[leggomylino]

au ceo / trope unrequited love / prompt 8 or 10 / like joshua from svt or yoongi from bts !! 💓💓

au trope + prompt requests! Send me a trope, prompt, etc. and I’ll write a short story or drabble!!

AU Type: ceo!au

Trope: Unrequited Love (I think I did okay- I’ve never written this type of romance so I’m sorry if I failed :c)

Prompt: #8: “Wait, wait. Say that again, please.”

K-pop Boy: Joshua, Seventeen (+ Yoongi, BTS)

~

Genre: ceo!au, angst, comedy, nostalgic

Pairing: ceo!joshua x fem!reader (x ceo!yoongi?)

Word count: ~2.4k

Warning(s): angst, I kinda rushed this one so sorry if I left out any important details…also it’s a bit cheesy and unrealistic lol ^^”

A/N: requests are open~ | Masterlist in BIO! | aaaaaaaaaand as always, yeehaw

~

“Excuse me, Mr. Hong. If you would just sign here, please…”

“Mr. Hong, there’s a call waiting for you on Line Four.”

“Mr. Hong! Mr. Hong, do you have a moment?”

Being swarmed with papers and phone calls and never ending crowds was the life of a CEO. But it was never the life that Joshua Hong wanted.

In his mind he was living a small, peaceful life by the sea within his means, the love of his life at his side and within an absence of the means of time. And he would achieve that, one day.

For now he just had to wait, and continue to play the game. 

As the crowd grew thicker and less transparent, completely blocking his way down the golden-railed hallway ‘til he could no longer move, Joshua halted his pace, took a quick breath, and graced everyone with the usual-plastered smile they’d all been waiting for, addressing his underlings one by one.

“Yes, sign here? Okay…and Janice, you said there’s a call on Line Four? I’ll take it momentarily, tell them I’ll be with them shortly? And Shawn, why don’t we talk during lunch? I’ll have Seungkwan make a reservation–”

One by one he went through them, each and every employee and sales’ person and random fan or citizen that had managed to make their way to the 48th floor of GameOn! Headquarters, handling each concern and care with kindness and as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

The entire act was draining. Thirty minutes later, he needed a nap.

But the moment the mahogany doors opened, the gold-plated doorknob flinching back as he released it to reveal the initials “J.H.” on the cover, yet another face was waiting for him. Sort of.

Hay and wood chips covered the entire room– the delicate swirl-colored carpet in shades of deep blues and cascading velvet, the beach-toned walls that really didn’t match but reminded him of the dream he was pursuing, the crystalline chandelier where a telephone hung among the masses.

“Just so we’re clear,” Seungkwa said, visibly sweating at the seams, “Dokyeom–”

Joshua wasn’t listening. He was too busy scouring the room for whatever had happened to his pet rabbit Mina, who just…jumped…onto the balcony.

Screaming in unison both boys rushed beyond the double french doors, Seungkwa nervously gathering the speckled ball of fluff before shyly passing it to his superior.

“Ha…hahaha…” He bowed. “Sorry?”

“……” His boss looked back inside at the chaotic mess before letting out a sigh, his gentle strokes against Mina’s backside attempting to soothe the terrified creature…and calm his own nerves. “…It’s fine…just call someone to clean this up. Do I wanna know what…?”

His assistant shook his head. “Probably not. I’m blaming Dokyeom. The snake was his idea.”

“Snake?!”

“What? Snake? I don’t know a snake. Unless his name is DK? Haha…ha?”

“…” Another sigh. He stepped back into the office, the brunette boy at his heels. “…I need you to make a reservation for lunch in an hour. I was thinking maybe–”

“Oh! Reservation!”

Seeing as Seungkwan had stopped and cried out with such sudden tenacity, Joshua blinked behind him. “Yes…?”

“Um…” Seungkwan smiled sheepishly. “There’s someone waiting for you in the lobby. After Seokmin dropped by and Mina got loose I sorta forgot about it. She said her name was…y/n?”

Joshua’s face paled. Every motion in his body froze, save his beating heart and racing thoughts.

He gulped. The last time he’d spoken to anyone by that name was…you. Three years ago. “………”

“…Joshua? Are you okay?”

The snapping and abrupt clapping in his face pulled him out of a one-way ticket to Memory Lane. He quickly smiled shyly to avoid any confrontation.

“Yes. I’m fine. Has she been waiting long?” He lifted the fallen plush pin from the ground, resetting it with one hand and placing Mina back into her luxury Barbie Dream home. “What’s her last name?”

Seungkwan thought a moment, picking random wood chips off the floor as he simultaneously flipped through a phonebook for room service. “I don’t think so…and her name was, uh, y/n…l/n?”

Another gulp. Crap. It was you.

He knew what this was going to be about. The same thing, every two to three years. You show up on his doorstep and tell him how you feel without actually saying anything. And everytime, he has to push you away.

Because he knows you. And he can’t have you getting mixed up in this “extravagant” lifestyle. It wasn’t just luxury cars and homes and country clubs and maxing out however many credit cards you wanted. It was busy, and messy, and chaotic. The opposite of you. Often times it got downright evil, shady, and sinful…blackmailings, mindgames, having to uphold an image and reputation. It definitely wasn’t the life he wanted, and he refused to drag you down into it as well.

At least not until after he’d done enough. After he could fall back on an early retirement that would please his family and make everyone happy.

He’d spaced out again. When he came to, Seungwkan was glaring up at him with curiously round brown eyes.

“So should I tell her to come in or…?”

After flinching back and shaking his head (once to recover from shock and once to clear the despondent memory of you), he took a look around and gestured with his hand.

“What do you think?”

Seungkwan looked over his shoulder, up at the ceiling, down at the floor. “Hmmm…probably not. I can–”

The door suddenly opened. “Mr. Hong? Animation Studio’s is still on Line Four and I don’t think they’ll hold much longer…”

Joshua clenched his jaw, closing his eyes a moment. “Tell them I’ll be there as soon as I can.” His eyes shifted to his accomplice. “Keep them busy,” he said.

Seungkwan shook his head. “You want me to handle an important business call?! But–”

The door had already shut, the echo muffled by scattered woodchip and torn featherdown from a certain rabbit-tailored Barbie Dreamhouse. 

A groan overtook the following silence.

~

“Wait, wait. Say that again, please…”

It was no use. This year’s visit was going terribly wrong. Just like all the other visits.

But it wasn’t for the same reason as before. 

“I came to get your blessing. If that’s okay…? Oh, and I wanted to drop off this thank you gift. For my birthday? I know it’s a little late, but I’ve been so preoccupied with the wedding invitations and the planning and…sheesh, you wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get Yoongi to go anywhere on his days off.” Y/n shook her head, hands clutching a rosary-gold picture frame with her latest masterpiece scribbled within its contents. “He’s always so tired so we usually just end up staying in and watching Netflix all day. But sometimes I’m able to convince him to do a little shopping with me. If I ask nicely and lure him out with cookies…er, that doesn’t always work, though…”

He couldn’t believe it. Here he was thinking he was going to have to let you down easy again, thinking up a basic speech plan to go over so things wouldn’t get messy or sidetracked, and your feelings would be spared, and he could go back to tackling another day in the life of Joshua Hong while trying to make the best of things and stay as cheerful and bright as possible, but…

It was his feelings that were on the line now. And dangerously close to the fire.

Things were not cheerful and bright. They were a desolate wasteland.

“You’re…getting married?”

Those words had cast a curse over every last straw of bliss he had left to grasp onto, and yet they’d brought the brightest smile Joshua had ever seen to cross your face, brighter than the sun and the moon and all the stars he was suddenly wishing he’d paid more attention to, stars he would chase to the ends of the earth for you…

But they were too far now. They were no longer a part of his universe. They were a part of yours…and someone else.

He found it adorable the way you bounced lightly in place at his question, nodding ecstatically. “Yes! I met someone…about a year ago, Yoongi. And he’s recently asked me to marry him.” 

Your eyes dipped down to the cerulean rug lining the large office table Joshua currently had to lean against for support, and a film of sadness fell over the atmosphere like a veil of mist or fog.

“So…I wanted to ask for your blessing. You know, since we grew up together and all…and well, I know we’ve kind of had a..history…but I also wanted to know, you won’t have to worry about me bothering you anymore. Haha,” You scratched the back of your head, turning away sheepishly to enlong the avoidance of eye contact. “I know you’ve always seen my yearly or semi-biyearly…tri-yearly?…visits as sort of an…inconvenience. And I told myself if you really felt that way, I should just get over it all and stop coming around anymore. But…” You smiled. “I know how hard this world of yours is. And that it’s not something you ever wanted. So I promised myself I’d just check in every now and then and make sure you were okay, because I really care about you, Josh.” 

This was it. His world was crumbling.

“But you know, now that I’m getting hitched and all, I probably won’t be able to come around anymore as often.”

Why? Why was his world falling apart?

“I’d be really nice if we could still keep in touch though? That is, if you want to…”

Why did any of this matter to him? He’d wanted you to move on. He’d wanted you to stop coming around, and he was finally getting his wish. So why…?

His grip tightened on the chair beside him. On the corner of the table he was propping himself against.

“…Anyway, that’s enough about me and Memory Lane. Here,” you held out the portrait in your gloved hands, the one’s he’d always see you show up in during the Holiday Season from years past. They’d been sewn and patched over a few times, a stark contrast to the Tiffany diamond and quartz watch around your right wrist. 

You glanced down at it as he took the painting from you, eyebrows raising with a smirk. “Ah, I’m going to be late for lunch. We’re almost finished watching (insert favorite series here). I promised I’d try making dinner tonight, too…”

The two of you shared a look. A look that only lasted mere seconds, but to him felt like twenty more years had gone by.

You gripped his wrists, giving him a tearful smile. “I don’t want to say this is goodbye, so…I hope to see you at the wedding? Or at least hear from you soon.” A content giggle chimed from your lips, the means of an afterthought following. “Oh, and…thanks for putting up with me all these years. You know I’ve meant well, right?”

“……” He felt lost. The only thing he could do was nod.

You beamed. “I’m glad. Again, I always knew I kind of annoyed you or that maybe you got the wrong idea but…you know, I just, wanted to make sure you were doing okay. Anyway,” you let go, and he wished you hadn’t so. Every step back was one he wanted to take forward. “I should get going. Don’t worry if you can’t make it, or if…you know, you’re just, too busy, I understand. I honestly should have stopped coming around so much, but I just…couldn’t help myself.” 

And for a moment, just one moment, Joshua could have sworn he saw a flick of regret. A wavering longing of nostalgia, of something so deeply internalized he didn’t have the time to reach down and discover its true nature, for it was gone just as soon as it had come.

And then so were you. As if you’d never existed at all. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt like he’d lost something; or that maybe you were never real to begin with. Which was blasphemy, absolutely ridiculous, he had known you since you were six.

He observed the painting you’d left for him, lips parting just slightly.

It was a portrait of a long forgotten photograph, one your parents had taken of the two of you when you were twelve, fishing for frogs and bugs and rainbow-colored rocks down by the riverbed of your hometown. The sky was the clearest blue it had ever been that day, the fluffiest of clouds providing the perfect shade along with thick blankets of willow trees, and Joshua was smiling while displaying a handful of crystallized rocks he’d found buried in a pile of mud (which he’d detested having to get dirty for but did so anyway), you proudly swinging a silver-colored fish that gleamed in a spectrum of colors beneath the soft peaks of sunlight.

The portrait was signed at the bottom: “To my best friend Joshua, with love - y/n ❤”

And then everything just…clicked. It was strange, but all those unscheduled yearly visits, the bi-yearly and tri-yearly, and all the time the two of you had spent together before that…everything came crashing down like a whirlwind that suddenly ceased, dropping everything it had been lugging and spinning around. It fell like a sudden ton of bricks.

He studied the painting for hours, locking himself away and politely going through the motions of the day on autopilot. Even when he was away from it, it was fresh in his mind, and the moment he had finished one task he would come back to it, even if it was just for a few minutes. At the end of the day, when everyone else had gone home for the night, he found himself staring at it, preferably you, and your smile. The gleam in your eyes.

He’d always thought you’d been squinting at the camera with the sun in your eyes. But really, you’d been squinting gleefully at him.

And he’d always known, deep down. This was all a carefully hazardous game he’d orchestrated to keep you at bay, telling himself he was protecting you and doing the right thing, but now…

Now, the game was over. He’d won.

But he’d truly lost you.

[ncitytexts]

Flutter.

SUMMARY: you never knew the reason why your heart always fluttered with the boy you had grown up with all your life.

PAIRING: jeno x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff! neighbor!jeno & bestfriend!jeno; friends to lovers au

WORDS: 2.3k.. like exactly 2.3k

WARNINGS: like. a speck of angst in the middle.

A/N: it kinda follows the american school system bc that’s the ... only school system i know LOL but alSO i usually write only soft hours aaaa but lets start off with my first fic with the one n only ... lee jeno hehe

Ever since you moved into your new neighborhood, only one person pops into your mind: Lee Jeno.

He was there when you first moved in, offering you a cookie his mom baked as you timidly clung on to your dad’s leg.

“Go on, sweetie. He’s going to be your future neighbor!”

Slowly approaching the long-limbed, yet small boy, he quickly took your hand in his and started to shake it. “Hello! My name’s Jeno. What’s your name?”

Little did you know that your encounter with Jeno would turn out to be the first of many, many other ones.

You had just turned six years old, and you were going to start your first day of first grade soon. Your mom insisted that you take the bus, calling it a way to  “make new friends”, but being the introvert that you were, it was your worst nightmare. Lightly tugging at your backpack, your mom said, “Come on, sweetheart, you’ll be okay!” You held back tears, and pecked your mom on the cheek before stepping on the bus.

The bus driver gave you a kind smile, but that did nothing to ease your nervousness. You walked down the cramped aisle filled with legs that stuck out and glittery backpacks and looked for lone seats; instead, you spot your neighbor, Jeno. At the same time, he spots you too, and gives you one of his iconic crescent eye smiles. 

“Come sit here, Y/N! We can be seat buddies for school!”

“O-o-okay!”

That was the first time Lee Jeno made your heart flutter.

You’re now twelve, but instead of your first day of first grade, it’s your first day of middle school. Jeno not only had found a new group of friends, but also became one of the biggest heartthrobs in the entire school. He had become good looking and was so tall that he towered over you at times. But still, he never forgot to hang out with you. He often came over to your house most nights to play games with you on your older brothers’ game consoles. He always went on ice cream runs with you and your mom, always yelling to his parents that “he’s off to get ice cream with Mrs. Y/L/N again!” Most importantly, he still rode the bus to and from school with you, insisting that he was your “eternal seat buddy”. 

However, when you stepped on the bus this morning, he wasn’t there in your usual seats, so you ending up walking to your locker alone in the morning.

“I ... can’t ... get ... this ... stupid ... combi-”

All of a sudden, another pair of hands land on your lock, and you look up to find the one and only, Lee Jeno.

“I’m sorry that I was gone this morning ... what’s your combination? I’m sure I could open it.” Jeno says, while giving you another one of his genuine smiles.

Smiling at his genuine willingness to help, you say, “Trust me, Jeno. I might have a better chance at going to the office instead. My dad literally scribbled it down this morning and it could be passed off as a kid’s handwriting. Plus, what if you’re late for class?”

Jeno lets out a laugh and says, “Don’t worry about my classes! Can you read out the combination for me then?” 

“I think it should be 29-10-35,” you hesitantly say, looking down at the crumpled piece of paper in your hands, attempting to decipher your dad’s rushed handwriting. Jeno questioningly looks at you and snatches the paper out of your hands to stick it up to the closest window, as if he believed the sunlight would help him read the messy, loopy handwriting better. Suddenly, he lets out a “Ha!” and hands you back the paper. Jeno turns back to the lock on your locker while whispering, “It’s actually 28,” Click. “19,” Click. “36.” Click.

With one swift motion, he was able to get both the lock in his hands and your locker door wide open. You glance at the nearest clock and it reads 7:58 AM, giving you two minutes before class starts.

“See? I told you I would open it on time. Now, hurry up and get your books! I don’t think all the girls in this school would be fond of you if you were to be late to homeroom with me.” Jeno says with a smirk before holding his hand out to you, ready to sprint to class with you hand-in-hand.

That cocky boy, you thought. Grabbing your textbook and slamming your locker shut, you stuck your lock back on and placed your hand on Jeno’s.

The moment Jeno whisked you away to homeroom with your hand in his is the second time he made your heart flutter.

The ripe age of sixteen has arrived, and your friendship with Jeno has altered in ways that you didn’t expect. For one, Jeno got his license earlier than most kids in the junior class as he had an earlier birthday while your birthday was stuck in the summer, so you weren’t able to get it as quickly. So instead of riding the bus every morning with Jeno, he swore that he would take you to school every morning, which of course, was approved by your parents immediately. Two, junior year was taking a toll on the both of you, so your nightly visits through each other’s windows were shortened to once a week. However, today you had promised Jeno that you would meet him at his house for an AP Biology test study session.

You knocked on his door three times, one time with a pause, proceeded by two quick ones. With this knock, Jeno is sure that you’re the one on the other side of the door, and not another girl from school asking for his number.

“Ah! Y/N! Ready to grind on some bio?” 

Looking back up into his eyes, you lose balance, not realizing that you blanked out and didn’t even notice the door opening. You lean forward a little in an attempt to regain your balance, but your knees lock instead. Jeno steadies you by holding onto your waist, and says, “You okay?” You nod almost instantly, cheeks reddening out of embarrassment.

You take off your shoes before entering Jeno’s house and you’re instantly greeted by his mom. “Oh! Y/N! Jeno didn’t tell me you were coming,” she says while wiping off her hands with a towel, “I would’ve made you guys my neighborhood famous cookies!” She winks jokingly and you respond, “Your cookies are just too good, Mrs. Lee. I was all over them when you brought them over last week!” with a smile as Mrs. Lee approaches you for a hug. 

“Hey! Don’t think I’ll let you steal her heart from me!”

Before you can give Mrs. Lee a nice “I’m-glad-to-see-you-again” hug, you turn around to find Jeno leaning against the stairs. Realizing he saw the entire encounter, you smirk at him, saying, “And what if I do? Your mom is just so sweet!” You can hear Mrs. Lee laugh behind you as Jeno walks up to the both of you and says, “You’ll have to steal my heart before you can steal my mom’s!”

When Jeno said that, it was the third time he made your heart flutter.

Jeno then takes your hand and says, “Okay, mom, I’m gonna go study upstairs with Y/N. We have our AP Biology test soon and I don’t think you want us getting two’s. Bye! Love you!” Mrs. Lee responds with a “Mhm.” before Jeno leads you back up to his room, with your hand still in his. 

Once you step foot into his room, a wave of memories hit you. 

“Tsk. Y/N, are you climbing through my window again?”

Midway through his window, you say, “Sorry, I’m home alone again. And I keep hearing weird noises! Jeno, I’m just scared.” Jeno looks up from his school project that’s scattered all over his desk with a glue stick in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other. “So, what do you want me to do? Cut them apart with scissors? Snip snip!” 

After you helped Jeno with his Egyptian project for his presentation on Monday, you found the both of you staring at his ceiling, adorned by glow-in-the-dark plastic stars and planets. You began to fall asleep while Jeno was talking, and the last thing you remember is Mrs. Lee whispering to you that “your parents are here to get you”.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N? Oh my god, she’s a goner.” Jeno says while vigorously trying to snap his fingers in front of your face. You grab his hand and say, “Stop it, you dork, I need more help on cellular respiration. I can’t remember any of the products again.” Jeno makes a sound in agreement and you feel buzzes coming from your phone in your back pocket.

[2:03 PM] juuuudy🧚🏻‍♀️: hey y/n where are you rn?

[2:03 PM] diane💃🏻: yeah where you at bro? let’s go get ice cream!

[2:03 PM] y/n: oh i’m @ jeno’s rn for ap bio. guys i cannot fail

[2:04 PM] juuuudy🧚🏻‍♀️: WHat YOU’RE AT JENOS

[2:04 PM] diane💃🏻: WAIT DO U MEAN T HE LEE JENO

[2:04 PM] diane💃🏻: BRO WTF GET US HIS NUMBER

[2:04 PM] juuuudy🧚🏻‍♀️: ^^^ agreed!!!!!1

[2:05 PM] y/n: guys i can’t just give y’all his number thats just creepy

[2:05 PM] juuuudy🧚🏻‍♀️: bro wtf.... do u like him or smth?

Before you can type out a reply to Judy’s text, Jeno whisks your phone away from your hands. “Hey! Give me my phone back!” you say, trying to get it from his hands, but his height allows him to keep it held high above his head while he attempts to read the texts that you sent. All of a sudden, he stops resisting you and hands your phone back. Confused, you’re prepared to tease him as to why he gave into you, but you’re interrupted by Jeno saying, “Do you like me?”

Shocked and unable to answer, you were only able to spit out an “I don’t know.” You had never felt this nervous before, as you’ve never thought of it that way. But perhaps, you do have feelings for him. Jeno, clearly confused and also unable to answer, simply says with a straight face, “Let’s just get to work on AP Bio. You said you needed help anyways,” before turning back to his desk.

Instead of a fluttering heart, your heart broke into a million pieces.

But what you didn’t know is that he really had just hoped that you said you liked him.

It’s been two years after he asked if you liked him, and it’s never left your mind. Jeno ended up acting like nothing had happened anyways.

Now, both you and Jeno are eighteen. Your graduation is set to happen tomorrow afternoon, and you’re getting a whole wave of nervousness running throughout your body. Trying on dress after dress, Jeno sits in your room clearly bored and swiping mindlessly on his phone. When you finally find a V-neck dress that’s just the right length and adorned with a floral pattern, you step out of your bathroom to show Jeno.

Noticing that his eyes are still glued to his phone, you say, “Jeno? Hello?” He still doesn’t look up, so you decide to spit out nicknames you knew he wouldn’t like. “Jeno-jaem! Loser! Momma’s boy!” is the three nicknames that finally get his attention.

“Dude, you know I hate that nick-”

Jeno’s mouth gapes open as he looks you up and down. You notice his ears getting slightly red when you say, “So? Is this the dress I should wear?” Stuttering, Jeno replies, “U-u-uh, yeah.” You look at him suspiciously and mumble, “Okay, I guess not then.” As you turn back to the bathroom to change, he quickly grabs your hand and says, “What I meant is that you look beautiful in it. Absolutely stunning in it.” 

You can feel yourself blush. His hand is still holding yours, and after a few seconds of silence, you feel yourself suddenly asking the same daring question he asked two years ago.

“Do you like me?”

Expecting a rejection, you let go of his hand and turn back around. However, this time, he pulls your hand back into a tight hug and says, “Maybe I do. And maybe I’ve liked you since the first time I met you.”

It’s finally the day of your graduation, and you’re lucky enough to be sitting next to Jeno. While sitting on white chairs lined up across the stadium’s field, you can feel all eyes on you and Jeno. Ever since last night, Jeno has been close to you, making all the girls around you become filled with instant jealousy and envy.

You look down in your lap and play with your fingers nervously when you hear Jeno say, “Don’t worry about them. I know you think they’re all looking at you, but if it makes you feel better, you’re the only one I’m looking at.” Looking back up into his eyes, you give him the biggest smile accompanied with a blush.

Once the speeches are given and the diplomas are handed out, the principal makes the final, iconic line said at every graduation. Immediately afterwards, the stadium is filled with cheers and yells, as you and Jeno throw your graduation caps up into the air. You both stand up facing each other when he finally makes the bold move to take your face in his hands and connect your plush lips with his.

His simple, yet loving action was the fourth time your heart fluttered for him; except, this time, you know why it was fluttering.

[nerdy-bookworm-1998]

The Mystery of the Secret Santa

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary:  Day 12 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. The Secret Santa strikes and Clint knows exactly which lab tech with their own secret and a supersoldier boyfriend is responsible. Words: 557 Warnings: Fluff, kinda-cliffhanger A/N: If you liked this please leave feedback/reblogs and consider donating to my Ko-Fi and/or Patreon, links are available in my bio. If you want to be tagged in future works please send me an ask. Merry Christmas! 😘🎄🎅🤶

It was the night before Christmas Eve, and all through the compound, not an avenger was stirring, not even a spy. Cloaked in darkness and a fuzzy Santa onesie, a figure darted from door to door. Neatly wrapped presents, chosen with care, lay waiting for their owners to bewilderedly stare. And so, as the clock began to chime, the Secret Santa disappeared from sight and into the night.

With the early morning rays painting the common room in a warm, golden glow, sleepy avengers slowly make their way into the kitchen, each carrying a box wrapped neatly in festive wrapping paper with a pretty bow and a card reading 'from your secret Santa'. They all put the parcels on the table as they tried to figure out who it could have been, especially since Friday reported no one who didn't have authorization had tried to enter. After bantering back and forth for a few minutes they decided it would be best to just open them and see what was inside.

They were all surprised by what they found. Tony got a new Guns 'n' Roses t-shirt along with a new set of socket wrenches in a toolbox. Bruce got a box of limited edition herbal tea and aromatherapy candles. Steve got a leatherbound sketchbook monogrammed with his initials and a set of art supplies. Natasha got a new set of throwing knives and a black fleece blanket. Clint got a set of exploding arrows and an extra-large tumbler for coffee on the go. And on it went, each person getting something useful and that they had wanted for a while but not voiced it out loud.

Once again the question of who their mystery secret Santa could be arose. While the team was deep in concentration, Clint quietly slipped from the room. Heading straight for the labs, he ordered Friday to secure the area. He finally found the person he was looking for. Y/N was bent over her lab table, scribbling down something in a notebook as she peered through the microscope.

"So, Secret Santa, when are you gonna tell them?" Clint asked as he perched on the table next to her.

"Shit! Clint! You almost gave me a heart attack!" she yelled as she pulled back from the microscope to glare at him.

"Sorry," he grins, not looking sorry at all, "but seriously y/n, when are you going to tell the team what you can do? You know they would take you on in a heartbeat."

"Because I don't want them to see me differently. I enjoy working behind the scenes, making sure that they're safe. I'm not meant to be in the field, you and I both know that. Please don't bring it up again," she begs him.

"Alright fine, I won't mention it again. But you should at least tell Bucky, he is your boyfriend after all," Clint says before walking out of the room.

"I will tell him when the time is right," she mutters to herself before turning back to her work, unaware that Bucky was just outside the lab doors and heard their entire conversation. He thought back to the ring in his pocket, it looked like it would have to wait just a little longer, at least until he could figure out what it was that y/ wasn't telling him.

Tags:

@mcdesij @spiderrrling @arrow-guy @interestedbystanderwrites @murdocksmartinis @gwendelerynan @here2have-fun @bookscoffeeandracoons @bambamwolf87 @loricameback @rockrchick51 @love-nakamura @baebeepeach @timelordy-fangirl2 @jewelofwinter @caramell0w @jewels2876 @ladysergeantbarnes @notawritergettingtherethough @patzammit @fanfictionjunkie1112 @lumar014 @kirstie-evans-writes @robertdowneyhiddleston @lil-lex1 @dragonrosegardens @bookgirlunicorn @farfromshawn @shadymidge @kaithezaftig @that-place-called-middle-earth

[boogiewrites]

Reports & Repertoire 16

Characters: Eddie Brock x Venom x Candace Miller (OFC)

Summary: Candy tries to keep things professional but the media seems more interested in her personal life than her professional offerings. After a night out goes wrong, Candy tries to handle it the mature way but finds that she prefers good old fashion, cold-blooded revenge when it comes to being pushed aside by those in power because of their money. 

Warnings/Tags: Fluff. Angst. Drink getting drugged. The “man” being a real prick. Revenge plots. Protective Eddie and Venom.

Click on my icon then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

After a date night that carried on long after the movie was over, Candy wakes up to to the snoring of Eddie in her ear. As usual, he's wrapped around her, his head by hers, nuzzled into her neck with her arms loosely around the big baby's body. He was blissfully unaware of the vibrating phone on the edge of the bed, but Candy was not.

"Nngh." she grunts, moving and slapping her hand on the bed to get the phone. Venom emerges slowly, like cold molasses as he taps the phone for snooze. "'fanks." she mumbles, as Eddie stirs, his arms moving in to hold her tighter to him, his face rubbed into the pillow before mushing his lips against her face.

"Not yet." he grumbles, his plea making a sleepy smile spread across Candy's face.

"I've got the thing this mornin' babe." she replies before her voice cracks and she clears her throat.

"No thing." is his brilliant retort.

"She's filming at the shelter today Eddie." Venom informs him, his voice the same as always.

"And you have a meeting don't you?" she says in a scolding tone, not making any attempt to move yet, her fingers combing through his warm and soft messy hair.

"Shit." he groans out,  planting his face into the pillow.

"I'll take that as a yes." she chuckles, kissing his temple. Neither make any attempt to actually leave the soft, warm confines of the comforter they were nestled under together. After a night out, followed by a rather rambunctious night in they were both longing to keep up the idea that they could stay snuggled up forever. But alas, it was a weekday and they both had to get back to their less inviting responsibilities.

-------

Candy stands in her three-piece skirt suit on the portable platform in front of the shelter. The press was there, along with a lot of the usual faces of employees and volunteers to celebrate the donation of the network and the full day of talking heads and interviews they'd be shooting. As the character head of the show, it having her name on it after all, she was doing the Press Release and the talking. After the formalities and cover story shots have been done, the questions begin. At first, it's all business as usual, who's idea, who donated the money, why this shelter? But as the head of a gossip mag popped up amidst the more formally sanctioned journalists Candy hides her frown.

"Is it true that you and the former host of this show, Eddie Brock are dating?" she asks without missing a beat and no shame in her face.

"Those questions aren't really appropriate for this event. This is about the people, the shelter, not my personal life."

"You two have been spotted around the city together. With the photos of you two canoodling out, do you still have no comment?" she presses.

Candy sighs, looking over to the producer who shrugs and motions her forward.

"For the sake of transparency, we are dating. But to bring the attention back to shelter, perhaps you'd prefer to know that we have both volunteered here before?" she offers, trying to reign in the follow-up questions. There's a general disinterest as notes are scribbled onto notepads. "Because we have." she offers with a tone of disappointment at the lack of interest.

"How long have you been dating?" another person chirps up.

Candy breathes through her nose and remains composed, but her eyes give away her annoyance otherwise. "I don't want to talk about the specifics of my personal life." she barely gets out before another voice chimes in.

"Were you dating before you took over the show? Is it a conflict of interests to have someone Eddie Brock was dating take over his show?" a man asks, looking to start trouble already.

"We were not dating at the time no." Candy flatly states.

"He thanked you in his awards speech though did he not?"

"He did, but we were not romantically involved."

"Was the speech what made you fall for him?" one of the more fashion-centered local magazines asks. They had given a four out of five star rating to Candy's look for that awards ceremony.

"No, but it didn't hurt." Candy says with a smile, a slight laugh from the crowd at her response and more light-hearted answer. "We worked together before I took over the show and that's how we knew each other. And it was sometime after the awards show that we began dating in an official capacity. That should clear up any further questions on that."

"Is there any animosity with you taking over what used to be his show?"

"No. He turned it down and suggested me for the job."

"How did he feel about getting fired from it before?" a follow-up question is quickly shouted out.

"Okay." Candy purses her lips. "I've indulged the questions enough. If you want to know more about Eddie Brock, ask Eddie Brock. If you want to know more about us from my perspective, book me for that specifically and we'll talk. Otherwise, any more questions about the work here today? This isn't about me. It's about the people here who are far more important than I am." she says motioning to the owners in the crowd.

The day passes, the gossip magazines and local feminist publications having a field day with the new information. As she expected, because she was dating a, to them, straight white man she had lost some sort of points it seemed in their eyes. Her work assistant kept her up to date as the alerts went off on her phone about her and Eddie. She knew it was all bound to happen and she was prepared for it. But being able to be with him openly was worth all the nonsense they could throw at her.

At the suggestion of one of the PA's, they all go out after a long day for drinks. She texts Eddie, letting him know his inbox might be blowing up and letting him know where and what she was up to. A quickly snapped photo of her at the bar, girls on either side of her as the haze of tech bros lurking in the background doesn't go unnoticed by him.

"Why there?" he asks, a wrinkled face at his phone in question.

"One of the PA's suggested it. I regret it already." she laughs and sends.

"Don't let those bastardized Steve Jobs wannabe's get near you. I don't know how to debug any virus they might give you." he jokes. Venom grins at Eddie's attempts to make a joke.

"Nice." he gives a nod of approval over his shoulder as they sit on Candy's couch.

Candy snorts and smiles, wanting to skip the social drinking and just go home.

"Aren't you that girl from tv?" a guy in neon sneakers that probably cost more than she made in a month slides obnoxiously between Candy and her assistant, acting like she didn't exist.

"Aren't you that guy with no social skills?" she asks, eyeballing him up and down, taking a sip of her drink.

"You tv types are always up your own asses." he says, still not moving.

"I don't like guys who roll up between me and my associate here like she doesn't exist. We were in the middle of a conversation."

"How else am I supposed to talk to you?" he asks with a shake of his head.

"Ask if you can interject? Or just... dont." she responds flatly. "You didn't even know my name so you aren't a fan, why would you even bother talking to me?"

"Because I wanted to fuck you?" he says obviously.

"Ugh. Gross." she says out of gut instinct. "Just... go away." she says, holding up a hand to his face.

"Whatever." he says with a roll of his eyes, his obliviousness something he wore proudly.

"Ew. Guys are so gross nowadays." her friend says with a wrinkle of her nose.

"Tell me about it." she rolls her eyes.

"You're lucky to have found someone who's nice."

"Don't I know it." she says with large eyes.

"Hey. Excuse me." a guy interrupts with apologetic body language. "You're Candy Miller right?" he asks with an outstretched hand.

Candy looks down at his hand before twitching her lips in consideration of taking it. "Yeah."

"I'm afraid I might be responsible for that guy giving you a hard time. I'm Mark. That was Seth, he's... well he's a bit of a dick most of the time."

"Yeah he was." she answers plainly, leaving him hanging.

"I mentioned there was a chick from tv here and he just kinda... swooped in." he says with a laugh, trying to break the ice.

She gives him a nod, still not giving over to his apparent politeness.

He withdraws his hand with a frown. "I wanted to apologize on his behalf. I've actually watched your show. It's good. You're good in front of the camera."

"Thanks." she says with a less angry inflection. "For that and the apology." she adds, trying to be a bit more personable.

"No problem. Can I buy you a drink or something to make up for it?" he asks, no sleazy delivery to be heard.

"No thanks." you say with a shake of your head.

"What about you?" he turns and asks her friend. "He just shoved in front of you too." he gives her a smile.

"Yeah, sure." she says with a small shrug.

The guy hangs around for a little while, small talk, nothing of much substance. Candy gets swept away other people, some better than her first encounter of the night and some just the same.  She moves back over to her assistant and has her hand her her drink as she's in the middle of being chatted up by some guy. Candy downs it, the period to the end of the sentence that is her time at this bar for the night. She stands against the wall and makes polite transition out of the conversation. It doesn't take her long to start feeling the effects of the drink. She shakes her head and excuses herself. By the time she's in the back hallway, slamming into the women's bathroom door she knows something's gone wrong.

She sinks into the floor behind a locked bathroom stall door. Her head was spinning in cycles. She rested her head against the cold tile wall as she fumbled with her phone, holding it up and dropping it a few times before finally tapping furiously at the little picture of Eddie in her contacts.

"Eds." she says with a  groan.

"Candy?  Babe you have too much to drink?" he says with a smile, expecting her to just be a bit tipsy and telling him to come to get her.

"No. Something. I think I got the wrong drink." she says, trying to recall the night's events.

"You sick?" he asks, both he and Venom more on alert at the sound of her slurred voice.

"I think she handed me her drink. Or something... someone put something in it." she gets out, her brow furrowed as she presses her back against the wall.

"Shit." he says, already standing and moving to the door to get his shoes and coat. "Are you okay? Are you in a safe place?"

"Girl's bathroom. Same bar." she says, her palm pressed to her forehead.

"I'm coming to get you, Candy. You stay there. Lock the door, alright?" he says, opening up the garage door and rolling out his bike. Venom was rolling through Eddie's brain, learning what he could about what was happening to Candy. He only really knew Eddie was very worried.

"Mmmm kay." she says as he hangs up. She knocks her hand against the door and it doesn't budge so she figures she got it secured. She props herself up against the wall, her feet against the other side of the stall, the walls going all the way down to the floor in each one.  Things got fuzzy after some time passes, she tries to stay awake, but finds herself dozing off.

"Hey. Are you okay?" Eddie asks Candy's assistant as she picks up on the third call.

"Uh yeah?" she says with a clearly unaware tone.

"Someone is putting stuff in the drinks there. Candy is in the bathroom right now. I need you to go check on her. I'm on my way." he says with a more certain and deep tone than she'd ever heard from him. She was used to the boyish and playful Eddie. But this Eddie meant business.

"Oh shit. Okay." she says, eyes wide and a hint of panic in her voice.

"Don't tell me you've been taking drinks from someone besides the bar tender. You're not that stupid." he says as his eyes dart past the cars on the road, knowing Venom was paying attention even if he wasn't.

"No. Uh. I got bought a drink but I hadn't touched it yet." she says. "Wait. Shit."

"Yeah?" Eddie presses.

"Me and Candy were drinking the same thing. I must've given her the new one and not the one she'd had. Fuck." she says as he hears movement in the background. "Hey..." he hears her say softly. "I got her. Well, I see her in there anyway."

"I'm just a few minutes away. Stay with her." he orders and hangs up.

------

After a very long night and having to lose half a day to feeling like absolute garbage Candy recovers. After taking her to the ER with the help of her assistant it wasn't long until the culprit of her sickness was identified and she was given something to keep it spreading and making her worse. Steph sat and held back her hair as she gagged and Eddie sat in the sterile room chewing his nails. He was furious.

After she's cleared, they both take her back home, getting her in bed where Eddie's exhausted body lies next to hers, propped up on a pile of pillows and pulling her to his chest. Steph gets the clear to leave, knowing she's in good hands now.

"Sorry." she mumbles for the thousandth time that day.

"You don't gotta apologize you didn't do nothin'." he says as he has every time. "You got handed the wrong drink. You didn't do anything wrong. It could've been a lot worse. For you or her both."

"I feel so bad." she murmurs against him.

"Go to sleep. Let's go to sleep and we can leave this fuckin' terrible night behind alright?" he says kissing her head, having her rest between his legs, his arms around her.

"'Kay." she whispers, her face nuzzling into the softness of his t-shirt, knowing that for now the worst for over. ------- "Eddie you can't just go out and eat people when someone goes wrong." Candy says exasperatedly with her hands out at her sides in defeat.

"After what they did to you? You don't wanna go out and get revenge?" he asks with a drawn face, leaning in close and speaking in a heavy accent as his anger showed through for the situation.

"I do! But I'm going to try to do an expose on it instead. I'm gonna talk to the network about it and see what I can do. I can do a lot more good that way than just eating some rich pricks."

"I wonder if they taste better or worse." Venom wonders out loud.

"You aren't helping." Candy frowns at the head that hangs above Eddie's shoulder.

"I am on Eddie's side. I want to hurt those who hurt you."

Candy sighs and shuts her eyes a moment, her shoulders slumping. "Listen. I'm trying to go about this the smart way, okay? I'm still worried about people seeing you. In that part of town, there are cameras everywhere. We... all three of us have to be smart about this. We can't go out like a bunch of damn cowboys, guns a blazin' and shoot up the bad guys." she says with a whine.

"But what they tried to do to you..." Eddie says again, his voice breaking with emotion, shaking his head back and forth, turning to pace the floor again.

"I know, babe, I know." she says, moving forward with a huff, turning him back towards her and putting her hands on his face. "But I'm okay. And I'm gonna do something about it alright? Just because we aren't doing something right this minute, doesn't mean we're just letting them get away with it."

He lets out an aggravated exhale.

"I know," she says again slower. "I'm mad too. But we can't act recklessly. We have too much to lose. Right? I don't want to lose you, we don't want to lose Venom. That's what'll happen if you're found out. So let's take it slow, alright? Let me see if there's something I can do first." she says with a pleading tone.

"Kay." he agrees,  his lips tight.

"Thank you. I can't lose you boys. We have to stay together. That means making decisions that don't make all of us happy." she stroke his stubble covered cheeks with her thumbs, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss. "I've got chocolate and beer and food. I can keep you boys distracted tonight. Tomorrow it's back to work and we can go from there alright?"

"Alright." he mumbles.

She mushes his cheeks, pooching out his lips as she smiles up at him. "Thank you." she kisses him again. "Now let's go get some junk food into you." ------- After a thoughtful and heartfelt pitch for an investigative piece on the dangers of drink spiking in the tech community, Candy felt good about the possibilities of shining a light on the particular problem in her city. She waited patiently through the day, all signs from her producer pointing to there not being a problem with doing the piece, as there hadn't been any before.

As Candy washes her hands, checking her hair in the mirror before she leaves work for the day, doing a final touch up to go home to Eddie, her producer walks into the bathroom, her eyes landing on Candy immediately.

"I got word on the piece you wanted to know about." she says, her body language not giving Candy much hope as she walked towards her, her hip against the sink counter as her face stayed indifferent.

"Yeah?" Candy responds with a furrowed brow, crossing her arms over her chest, ready to put up a wall of disappointment.

"The executives don't wanna do it." she says slowly,  her head subtly shaking back and forth.

"Okay?" Candy says, taking a big inhale and exhale, processing the defeat.

"Yeah." the other woman drags out the word, her eyes moving away from Candy's.

"Did they give any reason?" Candy asks with a motion out of her hand.

"They said it would be too graphic."

Candy lets out a loud half mad laugh. "Too graphic?" she pauses, her chin and neck now moving with attitude at the asinine excuse. "On a show where we report murder, sexual assault and violence every week? Too graphic?" she says, leaning forward, her arms back over her chest as her eyes were wide, shaking her head back and forth, her mouth open in astonishment.

"That's the reason they gave." she says with an apologetic smile frown and a sigh. "But..." she begins, then bending over to see if anyone else was in the bathroom that could overhear. She lowers her voice to a whisper, leaning in closer. "I was outside their office while they were discussing it." she says with her eyes shifted up to meet Candy's. "And the truth is that they have donors that are  in the tech scene in town. So they didn't want you causing a scene and getting any of them caught up in it."

"Because any of them that have enough money to donate to a network in their interests are probably pieces of shit too." Candy says with a knowing nod, her face fallen but her mind still racing behind her eyes.

"Yeah I know." she says with the same sad smile, patting Candy's arm. "I'm really sorry about what happened to you. I wish we could do something but..." she shrugs and points upwards.

"Yeah." Candy nods and straightens her posture back out. "Yeah, I know. Thanks. I'm not mad at you just... the whole sitution."

"You filed a report and everything though right?"

"Yeah, when we went to the hospital." she says while her eyes move across the busily tiled floor.

"Maybe something will come of it."

"Even if it does they'll buy their way out like they always do." she shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "Sorry, I know you're trying to be helpful I'm just... pissed." she says with a broad gesture of both her hands.

"I get it. You headed home now?" she asks, pushing herself away from the counter.

"Yeah. At least I got Eddie to take my aggression out on." she gives a half-hearted laugh.

"Lucky man." she smiles and says before leaving Candy alone.

She lets out a loud and angry sigh, her hands resting on the wet and speckled countertop, her hair hanging over her face. "Shit." she whispers out. "UGH!" she lets out from her gut, face towards the ceiling. "Such BULLSHIT!" she lets out loudly, her hands pushing her hair out of her face and kicking a garbage bin nearby.

----------

Every movement is followed through with a punctuation of anger. Her feet hit the ground heavier, she slams the car door to get some form of satisfaction as she gets in the car to head home.

"Something is wrong." Venom says, his previously blobby and lax head sitting next to Eddie's on his shoulder as they watched tv to wait for their girlfriend to come home.

"Huh?" Eddie grunts, his posture straightening as he snaps out of the daze he'd fallen into while staring at the television but thinking about something else.

"Candy." he states, as he moves to face the doorway.

As soon as the door shuts with a heavy and hard bang, Eddie's eyes go a bit wide and he catches on to what Venom is bringing his attention to. She stomps into the archway between the living room and the hallway, her worn ballet flats angry against the fake hardwood floors.

She takes a deep breath, her shoulders squared and fists balled at her sides before looking back and forth between the curious sets of eyes that looked her way. "We'll do it your way." she says, her eyes moving to the floor in failure.

"Do what?" Eddie asks, his mouth hanging ajar slightly.

"The tech guys. Let's just...fuckin kill them." she says with her hands thrown into the air in an outburst of all the negative emotions pent up inside her.

"Woah. Wait, why?" he says, body now engaged and rising from the couch as his brow furrows in question.

"I tried doing it the "right" way." she says with a response filled with attitude and annoyance, her fingers doing air quotes. "And they shut me down. So..." she sighs and shakes her head, her shoulders slumping.

"They won't do the story?" he asks, his voice cracking in his turn of high pitch. He moves towards his girlfriend cautiously as if she really might hurt him, even though he knew she never would.

"They have money invested in the network.  I was told it was too graphic of an issue to cover, but that's just a lie to cover up that they don't want their little free reign interrupted."

"Ah." Eddie nods slowly.

"But you would not let us eat them previously." Venom's voice is full of questions.

"I know that. I was trying to not jump straight to murder, you know?" she says with a slack jaw and delivery full of bitterness. "If I could've had the bigger platform I could've..." she stops mid-sentence and sighs. "Doesn't matter now." she shakes her head as if she were swinging the thoughts directly out her mind. "They want to try to hide behind their money. I want them to know their money can't save them." her face is held in almost wide-eyed innocence, full of vengeful intent with a good reason behind it.

"Eat the rich." Venom says, raising up like he was moving to his haunches, now a more fully embodied head and neck over Eddie's body.

"Where'd you learn that?" she asks, clearly impressed.

"We were learning about capitalism." Eddie says, his eyes wandering around the room in thought.

Candy would find an alien lifeform learning about the complex oppressive structures of governments on earth to be rather amusing if she hadn't felt so angry and betrayed. "I guess that means you know what a guillotine is then huh?" Eddie sees her eyes dark as they look past him to his symbiote.

"Yes. Viva La Revolucion!" Venom says with a large toothy smile.

"You want to be the guillotine for those assholes who tried to drug me?" she asks, looking directly at Venom. He begins to snake towards her and she steps closer to him, leaving Eddie to feel like a bystander in his own body.

"I do. I want to eat their heads separate from their bodies. I want to pile them up and see them, count them before we devour them for means beyond energy." Venom quivers with excitement as he sees nothing but approval in Candy's eyes. He and Eddie both have never seen her look so wild before. Venom loved it, but Eddie was hesitant. He knew she was angry, and rightfully so, as was he. But he found himself hesitant to bring her into his buried guilt with killing people. They did it to only those that deserved it but he wasn't sure how Candy would react once she got into the grit with them. The idea of killing someone is far different than actually doing it.

"And I want to be there when you do it." she says with eyes that beam fearless and bold into Venom's large opalescent ones. He breathes loudly, mouth opening and revealing his tongue, dripping with drool in his excitement much like a dog's.

"Let us do this for you Candy. Our sweet, previous Candy." he says, a tentacle-like appendage reaching out and caressing the side of her face tenderly. "We will kill anyone who dares to hurt you. We shall start with these men. You will be avenged." his thundering rumble of a voice is soothing as it vibrated across her skin.

Eddie felt the affection in Venom's words despite their dark promises. "We'll get 'em for ya babe. But are you sure you wanna be around for it?" Eddie asks, his hand reaching out and taking Candy's attention from Venom's looming face, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Yeah, I do. If we're going to be in this together, I want to be a part of this." her voice is softer now as she nods subtly, lacing her fingers through his as she stands toe to toe with him. "I want to know every dark and grimy part of the world as you see it. We're in this together. I'd kill for you two too you know." she says, her eyes still dark but her face set in a soft feminine expression that makes his heart thump in adoration for it. "Let's do this together, Eddie." she whispers, giving him an affirming nod.

He wets his lips, a series of small nods as his eyes move away from her for a moment before returning to her open and honest face. "Yeah. Together. For you." he says softly, lowering his chin to her before she leans up to confirm their plan with a kiss.

@hardygal69 @marvelgirl7 @emerald-bijou @negansdirtygirl22 @brianaisasongbird @vale0413 @izzy-the-ginger @chortletortoise @onomatopoetic-aesthetic @anrm1 @jademox @nightcraver @venomous-possibiities @tinastarkandco @chipster-21 @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes @queenof-wakanda

[kashimos-hajime]

Rumour Has It (2)

A/N: Here we go! The long awaited part two of Rumour Has It! Thank you so much for the support!

Masterlist and Taglist are in my bio!

Summary: You didn’t come to university to get picked up by some lacrosse jock but when Peter Kavinsky offers a chance to prove unflattering rumours wrong… well, you never were someone to back down from a challenge.

Characters: Peter Kavinsky

Wordcount: 2.6k

Rating: T (swearing, as always)

“Yo! Medusa!” As you slide your laptop into your bag, you raise your head to see none other than Peter Kavinsky with his friends. Sighing, you zip up your laptop and grab your notebooks to slide into the second zipper space. As usual, he’s wearing his trademark smirk paired with jeans and a jacket. If he wants your attention, he’s gonna have to come and get it because from where you are, you can hear his friends snickering and that isn’t shit you want to deal with. Ever.

“Do you need me to beat him up?” a girl asks from behind. You don’t know her name (it starts with a C, you think) but you know that she’s always reliable for any missed notes and assignments. Turning around, you shake your head with a smile. “Because I can. My sister is a personal trainer for like navy seals and quarterbacks and shit. I could get something together.” Her disgusted scowl directed at Peter Kavinsky makes you glad that someone’s on your side just in case.

“No, but thanks.” Sparing a glance at the jock, you see him getting tousled by his friends and let out a snort. “You know Peter Kavinsky?”

“Know? He’s basically shoved down our throats in the dorms. I swear, some girls have fucking posters of his face.” The girl lets out a whisper-scream at the thought, making a face.

“Admittedly disgusting,” you agree with a chuckle. Packing the last of your things, you take out your phone and check the time. 5:17.

“What’s he even doing calling out to you? He’s never bothered someone who sits in a front row before,” she continues and you shrug.

“I allowed him to call me Medusa,” you inform, defeated, and C (which is what you call her whenever you think about her) raises an eyebrow.

“You and Peter Kavinsky talked?”

“It’s shameful, I know,” you snort sarcastically and she cracks a smile.

“Medusa!”

“What, Peter Kavinsky?” you bark at last and he falters for a moment. His friends nudge him in farewell and leave as you sling your backpack on. C rolls her eyes and you send her a smile.

“I’ll see you Thursday.”

“Yeah, see you.” Heading over to the jock, you flick a hand. “Come along, Peter Kavinsky. We have to get going.” Heading out the lecture hall, you exit the building with him in tow as you walk the path back towards your dorm. His friends are nowhere in site. “How’d you get your lackeys to leave?”

“They’re my friends and they left because I asked them to.” His offended tone has no effect as you see your dorm building. “Why’re you so rude, anyways?”

“Why be nice to people who don’t deserve it?” you shoot back, swiping your card to get in. Opening the door, you’re surprised when Peter Kavinsky takes the weight and holds it open. Sending him a narrowed look, you enter and head for the elevator.

“Have my friends offended you in some way?” asks the jock and you let out a disbelieving scoff. “Did they bully you?” You don’t answer as you jab the 4 on the columns of buttons. He takes your silence as a yes. What are you gonna say? That one of his friends happens to be some stupid twat from high school who you used to date? “What for?”

“You realize that everyone has a reason to be bullied, right?” Yours used to be how gullible you were. God, you were part of the cheer squad. You were one of those girls who were deemed popular and were snotty about it.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” he had said weeks after you two broken up. He had a new girlfriend then, the head of the cheer squad. What a dumbass. Clenching your jaw, you exit the elevator with Peter Kavinsky close on your tail.

“Yeah, but they’re my friends. I want us to get along.” Whipping around, you stop.

“Why? Because we’re friends?”

“Well, yeah.” A conflicted expression passes over his face and he frowns as you laugh. “We aren’t? Then, why am I here?”

“You invited yourself over. I’m not stopping you is all.” Grimly, you turn around and stop before your door. Unlocking it, you let him in first before closing the door and locking it. Unzipping your boots, you kick them off before walking in. Lucky for you, you have a single room to yourself but it’s still cramp as hell. Sitting down at your desk, you hear Peter mumble at what a mess it is.

“Have something to say?” you ask, turning on your swivel chair. He pauses mid step and smiles.

“Nope. It’s a perfect swamp.” Your arch an eyebrow at his reply. He collapses on the giant beanbag in the corner, grimacing when he reaches below his butt and pulls out a book. Setting it down by his feet, he glances up at you through his eyelashes and you shake your head when he catches you staring.

“I prefer lair.” Crossing one leg over the other, you tilt your head at him. Pressing your lips together, you survey what he’s doing. Currently surfing social media or something on his phone, he’s made himself perfectly at home. You had really expected him to leave already and have some alone time. “If you get hungry for dinner, you can leave.”

“Nah, don’t eat early.” Surprised, you turn to your notes and begin to pick up where you left off last night. Well, you suppose you don’t mind as long as he’s quiet.

“Me neither,” you say and you think you can feel his stare on your neck. Carefully, you turn your head to sneak a glance at him and you find your suspicions correct. When he’s caught, he simply smiles and resumes scrolling on his phone. Taking out your phone from your bag you had thrown onto your bed, you plug it into your charger. You take out your textbook as well and pull out your pencil case before beginning to scribble in notes.

“It was Pollock, wasn’t it?” asks Peter Kavinsky after a full hour of silence. You start. You’d forgotten he was here, so silent he was. “Jason Pollock?” Sucking in a breath, you debate on what to say.

“Who said it was?”

“I scrolled through your Instagram.” Raising your head slowly, you jerk your gaze towards him. He has one earbud in his ear, the other being rolled between his thumb and index finger. “I found a really old post, from like years back.”

“Oh, so you’re stalking me,” you snort sarcastically and he frowns deeply. You know you’re giving him more attitude than he deserves but you never wanted anyone to find that out about you. You’re better than that now.

“We follow each other. You - you followed me first,” he mumbles and you widen your eyes. Grabbing your phone, you whip out Instagram and click on your Following and search up his name.

ptkavinsky Peter Kavinsky

You really are following him. Clicking on his profile, you scroll through his pictures and realize you’ve even liked some of them as he continues to talk.

Peter Kavinsky UVC | #18 | Turned to stone 🗿

Your eyebrows knit together at his bio. You never noticed that before.

“Anyways, your first post…” He trails off and you turn around, leaning back into your chair. “In the comments. I didn’t mean to pry, I just wanted to know you better and I found it. I didn’t know you were a cheerleader.”

“Yeah, well, it isn’t something I’m proud of,” you growl, twisting to slam your textbook shut and getting up. You shove your backpack off your bed and lie down, head resting on your interlaced fingers as he stares at you, waiting for you to explain. “I dated Jason Pollock, so what?” He gets up and sits on the chair at your desk so he’s closer. His second earbud has fallen out and he unplugs the jack, stuffing them in his jacket’s pockets. His knee keeps jiggling and you can see it out of your peripheral as you continue to stare up at your ceiling.

“So, you were one of those popular cheerleader chicks.” 

You know exactly what post he got that information from. It’s the squad photo and you have the caption blazing in your head because it was so chic at the time.

yourinstagramname: SQUAD goals. Here we come provincials!

Groaning, you pinch the bridge of your nose. So stupid.

“I was,” you confirm, turning your head to look at him, and he has a soft smile on his face. It kinda puts you off because all you’ve ever seen is a huge smile that digs into his cheeks, that classic smirk, and even that half-smile he sometimes sends to girls you’ve worked with before.

You never thought Peter Kavinsky could look so… tender. Your heart squeezes at this new side of him.

But eventually, that soft smile paired with those chocolate curls and molten brown eyes has you questioning both your ethics and why he’s staring at you. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just I can’t imagine you as a cheerleader.”

“Oh, I’m full of surprises.”

“And you’re not the face I imagined when Jason told me the reason why he doesn’t date anymore.” Shock freezes your blood and you have your jaw hanging off your face, mouth unable to work. Trying to form words, you fail spectacularly. He chuckles. “He’s - he mentioned this girl he used to date in high school. He said she’s the reason why he doesn’t have a girlfriend anymore, and I thought that girl must’ve been a bitch to break his heart so badly.”

Jason Douchebag Pollock had no right to tell lies like that.

“Oh, I broke his heart,” you drawl sarcastically, sitting up and glaring at Peter Kavinsky. “Right, you tell him that his poor little broken heart--” You pretend to pout-- “that he got what he fucking deserved.” Trying to keep your voice level, you flop back down and find the anger you had stuffed so far down from years ago to resurface like a magnificent, snarling beast.

“You know what?” he starts, causing you to look at him again. He has an easy smile as he sits down beside you. Scooting over reluctantly, you push yourself up by your hands and lean back onto them as he shows you his screen.

He’s on the Following page of his own Insta profile and you furrow your brow when you see his thumb hovering over the Following button next to one name.

jzpol J A S O N P O L L O C K

“He’s cancelled.” With two taps, one to request, and one to confirm, Peter Kavinsky no longer follows Jason Pollock. Surprised, your mouth drops open as his eyes crinkle. He’s smiling that smile again and it unnerves you so much you look away.

“Why’d you do that?” you mutter, scooting forward and getting off the bed. He stares after you, absolutely bewildered. Instead of touched, you look vaguely offended. In reality, you don’t understand what you’re feeling. You hate the thought that he really did something so passive aggressive. By midnight, you’re sure you’ll hear gossip about some fight between Kavinsky and Pollock. Why else would Peter Kavinsky unfollow Jason Pollock?

“What do you mean? You don’t like him, so I unfollowed him.”

“He’s your friend.”

“He was an ass to you,” exclaims Peter. You open your small closet and grab the first jacket you see, the camo that’s too big for you, and shrug it on. Rolling up the sleeves, you search for your combat boots. “He’s always been an ass and I shoulda stopped him when he started calling you Medusa but I didn’t because I didn’t know you. But I knew him and I trusted his judgement. I didn’t know you guys were a thing.” Turning around, you frown at his words. “Now that I know you better, I feel like I have formed my own opinion--” You let out a sharp ‘hah’ at his choice of words. How funny of him to use your own words-- “and have therefore acted on it.”

Still, one piece of info burns and melts the ice in your veins. “He started the Medusa thing?” Disbelief clear on your face, you grab your boots and collapse on the beanbag, pulling the left one on. Like Pollock had any reason to make your life even worse. God, so you have him to thank for making you known on campus. Great. “You know name-calling isn’t exactly a good thing no matter the circumstances.”

“He was my first friend here,” he says. “Not that it excuses anything. I just thought it wasn’t my place.”

“It’s always your place to call out someone’s bullshit,” you comment bitterly, tying your boot tightly. Sitting up, you pin him down with a stone-inducing glare. “You know what? Why do you believe me, anyways? How do you know I’m not just making it up that Pollock screwed me over?”

“Because you’re honest.” Tossing him an unimpressed look, you allow him to continue. He seems to have the sense to realize you don’t want to talk about Pollock anymore and diverts the flow of conversation to the very reason why he’s even here. “You were right. We aren’t friends - we’re just two people who agreed to a challenge. So I get to be honest with you, and you get to be honest with me. Deal?”

“Deal.” Like you aren’t already honest with everyone you’ve ever met. You shove your foot into your right boot before starting to lace it up.

“To complete this challenge, I think we have to know what rumours we have to prove wrong. So, what are the rumours about me?”

“What, are we playing Truth?” you ask sardonically, finishing up your last boot and standing up. He gets up and shoves his feet into his sneakers before grabbing his bag.

“Yep. We each get a turn,” he says as you grab your keys and your card to get into the dorm building. Grabbing a small leather backpack, you stuff your wallet and a portable battery inside and sling it on while your other hand pockets your phone. He doesn’t even ask where you’re going and you don’t question why he follows as you two exit your room. “After I go, you go.”

“Okay, fine.” Searching your mind, you pull the threads of gossip you heard in passing and try to summarize it in a brief sentence. “They say you’re a tease, a flirt, that you can’t hold down a serious relationship with a woman for whatever reason and still for some inconceivable reason, girls still fling themselves at you.” He juts out his bottom lip, mulling your words over before nodding.

“Fair. Those are the rumours that we have to break, then,” he says with a glance at you. Your answer is a nod and a one-shouldered shrug.  Then, an idea pops in your head.

“If I asked if you wanted to eat dinner with me, would you? You know, if girls heard you ate a platonic dinner with a girl and that you have friends of the female gender, then maybe they’ll realize that you, A, don’t have commitment issues, and B, are an actual human being behind all that flirting and shit,” you explain slowly, trying not to get his hopes up that this is a date. It is not. So you clarify this to him. “This is not a date. I am putting boundaries down. I have drawn them with a extra-thick Sharpie, in bold black, between us and if you cross that boundary, I will immediately block you from my life.” He blinks and then that stupid soft smile appears again.

“Girl, you had me at ‘eat dinner with me’ and ‘platonic dinner’.” Rolling your eyes, you press the elevator button. “You basically said we were friends,” he added triumphantly. Again, you over-exaggeratedly roll your eyes. “I can drive us. Where’re we going?”

“Does Chipotle sound good to you?”

“Sounds perfect.”

TAGS: @teawithbucky @shadowsndaisies @jcc04220 @uhltrons @goldenariana @http-natiii @yourwonderbelle @poseidons-lil-bitch @beyond-the-ashes @fallen-imagine-angel @dontstopxx @always-fletcher

[symphonic-scream]

Good Advice is Hard to Find (Next Gen)

I really can't remember a time without my so called cousins. We're not related at all, and I even have two bio cousins that I see way less, but these people are essentially family at this point. Which made this whole situation much more awkward.

"What do you mean you like Tadashi?" Toshiro squinted at me, putting his old Gameboy down. "Aren't y'all friends? Did you hate him or something?"

"What?" I responded, genuinely concerned that my third year brother is this dense. "No, like, I like him like you like Reo."

He scrunched up his nose, digging his fingers into his wild hair as his ear jacks twisted together. "But we're dating, not friends. Did you mean Ryoko?"

"No, stupid!" I exploded, burying my face in my hands. "I have a crush on Tadashi!"

"Gross." Toshiro muttered, sticking out his tongue at me. "He's like my brother. And you're my brother. That's kinda like theoretical incest."

"Why did I even come to you?" I muttered, making a quick exit. Obviously my older brother was too dense to help me out, so I had to find another option. Luckily, my little pseudo-family wasn't so small.

-

My next attempt was Uraraka Machiko, as she is in a relationship with Tadashi's older sister, Ryoko. She had to be able to help me out.

"Machi?" I asked, knocking on the door to her dorm. The door wasn't locked, but I would have no idea if she was changing or anything. "Are you there?"

"S'open." Her voice called out, obviously layered with sleep. Makes sense, she's never been an early riser. I quickly ducked into her room, only to let out a squeak.

Machi was indeed still in bed, just not barely asleep as I had thought. She was curled around Ryoko, who was typing away on her laptop. Damnit.

"What do you need, Hibiki?" Machi asked, meeting my eyes over her girlfriend's shoulder. They were both fully dressed, so at least the only awkward one was me. Heaven forbid I interrupt something. That would be truly horrendous.

"Nevermind!" I squeaked out, nervously messing with my hair as I backed out the door. "I must've forgotten what I needed! Silly me, oh look at the time! Gotta go bye!"

Two down, and I was no closer to solving my problem. Maybe I was asking the wrong people. They were too close to Ryoko, so maybe I should try someone that isn't best friends or girlfriends with Tadashi's older sister.

-

The Midoriya twins were the next most available option, as they were just a floor up. Another benefit to the UA dorm system. A quick knock on Hatsuko's door, and I was in.

Hirano Junko, her girlfriend, was there, but it looked like the two girls had been playing Smash before I entered, and neither were related to Tadashi, so this was already much more successful than my last attempt. Sachiko was also there, which was an added bonus.

"What's up, Little Jirou?" Hatsuko called, starting up a new match.

"I actually need some advice." I admitted, taking a seat in the abandoned desk chair. "Relationship advice."

"My strong point!" Hatsuko laughed, nudging Junko with her foot. "Better not ask this one though, she's awful at it!"

Junko rolled her eyes, ending their match with one final move. "My, what strong fantasies you've been having."

The two laughed away, so I turned my attention to Sachiko. She was sitting on her sister's bed, English notes spread across the bed sheets. "Can you help me out, Sachi?"

"Sure thing." She nodded, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eyes tiredly. How long had she been studying? "What seems to be your problem?"

"Well, I think I like Tadashi, but he's my best friend, and we've known each other since we were babies."

"I didn't hear a problem in there." Junko adds, looking over from her bean bag. "Sounds like you like your boy there, Jirou."

"That's the problem." I sulked, hanging my head in shame. "He's my best friend, and there's no way for this to end with everything staying the same between us."

"Isn't that good?" Hatsuko asked, coming over to sit on her desk. "You like him, and he probably does too, so you guys just like date."

"It's not that simple." I muttered, playing with the beaded bracelet on my wrist, specifically the black and red bead labeled with a white T. "If he doesn't like me and I tell him, our friendship becomes awkward. If it doesn't work out, friendship awkward. There's no option except amnesia that ends with us both staying best friends."

"But you don't want to be friends." Sachiko points out. "You want Tadashi to me more than just your best friend. You want something romantic, not platonic, and you're worried you'll lose the relationship that made you realize your appreciation for him."

"That's exactly it!"

"Just hero up and tell him, little man." Junko huffed, finally joining our ring by sliding up next to Hatsuko on the desk. "Tadashi's a reasonable dude, it's not like he'll hate you."

"It went so well for us!" Hatsuko adds on, laying an exaggerated kiss on her girlfriend's cheek. "Either give up, and move on, or just go for it."

"Thanks guys." I smiled, getting up from my seat. "This was a big help."

I couldn't help but think that I still needed convincing on the matter. Maybe I was being irrational, but when am I not? Maybe a fifth opinion is the best course of action in this case.

-

"You're making a big mistake, JH." Hoshiko hums, floating back into her hammock/nest lazily. "We're far from the ones who should be answering your questions."

"I already talked to Toshi, Machi, Hatsuko, Junko, and Sachiko. It's not like you two were my first choice." I roll my eyes, sitting beside Fumiko on the carpet. "Besides, I need insider knowledge."

"Kazuya can give you that." She snarked back. "Or even Hiroki. Neither of them would spill."

"You say that as if we would, darlin." Fumiko laughs, scribbling more background details onto her character sheet for our D&D campaign. "We can help you out, Hibiki, don't worry."

I let out a sigh of relief, letting my posture go slack. "Thanks gals. I just need a closer, outside look on it."

"No worries, outside looks are what I do best." Hoshiko drawls, rocking her bed space. "The way I see it, you should just get it over with and tell him. The boy is very emotionally dense, tell him as it is. Don't wait."

I ponder this for a moment. "You're making sense, I just don't know if I can go through with it."

"Where's the confidence we see in hero training?" Fumiko jokes, nudging my shoulder with her tail. "Put on that Alchemist swagger, boyo. It'll help."

"Is that what you did?"

The two girls laugh, as if the idea that Fumiko embodying her demonic hero personality to ask out Hoshiko is the funniest thing they've ever heard.

"No way!" Hoshiko snickered, smirking at her girlfriend. "I spent weeks during D&D last year leading up to the drunken wedding scene, and it made her snap after that session."

Huh. I guess that makes sense, all things considered. "Well, thanks. I'll let you know how it goes."

All this advice was finally sinking in. Maybe the best course of action really was to Alchemist up and fess up to Tadashi. My dumb gay pining was only going to get worse, after all.

-

It's years later, lounging with my new husband on our couch that I realize how dense I'd been. Was I so insecure that I needed seven people to help me make a decision? Well, either way, I was glad I actually built up the courage, otherwise I doubt I'd be where I am now.

[huphilpuffs]

flares

chapter: 21/? summary: Dan’s body has been broken for as long as he can remember, and he’s long since learned to deal with it. Sort of. But when his symptoms force him to leave uni and move into a new flat with a stranger named Phil, he finds that ignoring the pain isn’t the way to make himself happy. word count: 3343 rating: mature warnings: chronic illness, chronic pain, medicine a/n: a huge thanks goes to @obsessivelymoody for beta reading this for me!

Ao3 link || read from beginning

Dan wakes up alone.

His head is squashed into his pillow, mouth hanging open with drool drying at the corner of his lips, hair matted atop his head. His body feels weighed down, heavy on the mattress. The burn in his chest has faded to a simmer that sparks when his ribs expand around an inhale.

The air grates at his throat. So does the groan Dan lets out when it hurts.

He manages to roll onto his back so he can orient himself. Phil’s pillow is still sitting there, bright and blue and such a contrast to the dreary grays covering the rest of Dan’s room. On the nightstand, there’s a bright yellow post-it scribbled with black that Dan’s fairly certain is a note.

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

He shifts towards the edge of the mattress, arms aching in their attempt to move his weight, until he’s sitting in front of Phil’s pillow. It hurts his shoulder, but he leans over and plucks the post-it from its spot. Phil’s messiest handwriting is scrawled across it in black sharpie.  

I had to go to work :( I called Taylor to make sure you’re okay so she should be here somewhere. I hope you’re feeling better.

The last few words are tiny, wedged into the corner of the paper. Above that, there’s a smudge of ink that looks almost like it was meant to be a heart.

Dan tries to tell himself it’s nothing, that Phil just pressed the marker to the paper for a moment too long, but his smile still grows wider.

He stares at the note for a really long time.

---

It takes Dan a while to drag himself out of bed.

His legs are still shaky under his weight and there’s a dull ache in the back of his neck that makes it hard to hold his head steady. He finds a pair of pyjama bottoms and struggles to pull them on so that he’s not in just his pants, but his chest still stings when it’s touched.

Besides, Taylor’s seen him shirtless before.

Pressing one hand to the wall for support, he leaves his bedroom, taking slow, steady steps into the lounge. He sees Taylor sitting on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table. Her hair’s thrown back into a high ponytail and she’s hunched over a book he can hardly see, a pen perched in one hand.

She was supposed to be at uni today. Dan swallows against the guilt that comes with the realization.

He manages to stumble halfway to the sofa before she notices him. Her pen clatters against the table as she bounces to her feet, and before he can take another step, she’s dipping under his arm and draping it over her shoulder.

“You could have, I don’t know, called out or something.”

Dan huffs out a laugh. Something twinges in his chest. “I was fine to walk, you know.”

“Phil said you almost fainted.”

“Yesterday. Then I got IV fluids and slept,” he says. They’ve reached the sofa by then, and Dan drops onto the cushions, lets his weight sink into the soft blanket laid over them. “You know my blood pressure does that sometimes, Tay. And then it recovers.”

Taylor shrugs. She drops back onto the floor without a word, and starts fidgeting with her pen. Dan counts how many times she clicks it.

There’s thirteen clicks before she speaks.

“Phil made it sound like you were dying or something,” she says. “I figured it was pretty bad.”

“Oh,” says Dan. “It wasn’t. That bad, I mean.”

He turns his head against the sofa, presses his nose to the blanket Phil got him. When his eyes drift closed, it’s to the image of Phil’s face last night, eyes gleaming with tears, staring at Dan attached a machine by so many wires. It’s to the phantom feeling of Phil’s goodnight kiss dusting across his hair.

“He was worried?” he hears himself ask.

Taylor huffs. “That’s an understatement,” she says. “He didn’t want to leave. I’m pretty sure he was late to work, actually. He just kept going around the house making sure everything was okay. There’s a smoothie for you in the fridge, by the way.”

“He made me a smoothie?”

Taylor hums. There’s a grin drawing at the corners of her mouth, happiness reaching her eyes. She looks good. She looks healthy.

Healthier than she has since Dan’s known her, at least.

Dan smiles back at her. He lets his gaze drift to the textbook that lies open, and it drops.

“More bio?”

“Yeah,” says Taylor. She sets her pen down again, but her head stays dipped towards the book of notes Dan couldn’t even try to understand. “You know how I’m seeing a counselor?”

It’s a whisper, too shy for the girl who would barge into his dorm when he was half-naked to do her homework and keep him company.

Dan forces himself to nod. “Yeah.”

“Well she thinks I should switch courses,” says Taylor. “I don’t know if I’m gonna do it.”

“Oh.” Dan swallows. His chest feels tight again, locked with uncertainty. It shouldn’t be a surprise, he thinks. But Taylor never talked about it, not of her own volition.

Then again, there were a lot of things Taylor didn’t do for herself. Things she couldn’t do for herself.

“I think you should, if it would make you happy,” says Dan.

He might be imagining it, but he thinks he sees her shoulders sag with relief.

---

They sit in silence for most of the day. Morning was already bleeding into afternoon when Dan woke up, and even now, with the day’s brightest sun peaking out from beneath the blanket curtain, he can’t muster energy to do much more than stare vaguely at the TV.

His vision goes out of focus every time there’s a flurry of movement on screen. Dan’s not even sure which movie it is that Taylor put on.

It’s not very good. At least, the bits his brain can pick up on aren’t very good.

He looks away. His neck feels weak and his head bobs a bit when he leans forward, but his gaze settles on Taylor. She’s still sitting on the floor, still reading her biology textbook.

Dan wonders how her brain can possibly be absorbing any of that.

“Taylor?”

She looks up, twisting so she’s facing him. Her eyes look a little hazy, but not nearly as much as they used to. Like maybe the prospect of leaving the sciences behind has reinvigorated her.

Not that the prospect of dropping out had done anything of the sort for–

“Dan?”

He blinks. Taylor’s still staring at him, brows furrowed in concern.

“Geez,” she says. “I thought you were gonna faint on me.”

Dan frowns. “It really wasn’t that bad.”

It’s starting to sound petulant to his own ears, but then his mind flashes back to one of the times he laid in the hospital sobbing as his chest seemed to want to cave in. Lightheadedness, though it makes anxiety curl tight in his gut, is nothing in comparison.

Taylor’s just staring at him now, and Dan wonders when he started feeling the need to explain himself to her.

“Really,” he repeats. There’s a pause as fingers catch at the edge of the blanket and he mumbles: “Did Phil really seem that worried?”

Her eyes go a little somber at that, and her shoulders a little tense. Dan’s hand wraps tighter around the fleece, thumb drifting over tiny furs in the fabric. He reminds himself that Phil bought it for him, tried to make his new home comfortable in the tiny ways he knew how at the time, in all the ways he’s learning to help.

There’s still a smoothie in the fridge for him. One that Phil left there.

“Honestly?” says Taylor, and Dan nods. “I think he was catastrophizing.”

“Oh,” says Dan. His chest feels tight again, because Dan knows what that means. He’s been there. Sometimes, in the darkness of nights where his body aches too much for his mind to drift off to sleep, he still ends up there.

Taylor, he knows, has been there, too.

She shrugs. “I don’t know. He didn’t say it,” she says. “It just kinda seemed like he was scared that if he left you, he would, you know, lose you.”

A lump wells in Dan’s throat. He swallows against it. All he manages in response is another quiet: “Oh.”

Taylor stares at him for a long moment after that, then shrugs one shoulder and turns back to her book.

“I could be wrong,” she says. “I don’t know him all that well.”

Dan shakes his head. He draws the blanket around himself, just a corner of fleece pulled pitifully over his chest because he can’t be bothered to stand and free the fabric from under his weight. Taylor’s not watching to see his eyes slip closed.

She wasn’t there to see the look on Phil’s face when Dan was hooked up to the ECG.

“I think you’re right,” he says.

Taylor drops her pen, turning to look at him again. “You do?”

“Yeah,” says Dan. “I just– There’s one thing that bugged me.”

He doesn’t elaborate. Part of him doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to place Phil anywhere near the doubts that lurk in the back of Dan’s mind. But the memory of the ECG fades into one from before, from back at the flat, Dan’s head still spinning and chest aching and Phil trying to help.

“Well?”

Something’s stinging behind Dan’s eyes, and he hates that he knows exactly why.

“He didn’t wanna go to A&E,” he says. “Like he seemed to get that it was serious, but he wanted to wait and see and I don’t know it just reminded me of–”

He clamps his mouth shut, but Taylor knows. She knows too much, he thinks, about the little things that linger, heavy, on his shoulders, about the memories he can’t entirely erase.

“Your parents?”

It’s a whisper, one they both know is true. Dan nods anyway, guilt twisting painfully in his gut.

She reaches up, rests a hand on his knee. Her eyes have gone soft, her gaze tripping over where Dan’s clutching the blanket too tightly, like a child.

“He’s not like your parents,” says Taylor. “You know that.”

Dan nods, because he does. He knows it so much it hurts, more than the lingering pressure against his ribs and the ache blooming at the back of his head, to doubt it.

Taylor squeezes his knee. “You okay?”

He’s not sure. But then again, Dan’s never sure when people ask him that.

He shrugs, and mumbles: “Yeah.”

---

Dan falls asleep to the sound of a boring film and the turning pages of Taylor’s textbook.

He wakes up to the TV gone silent, different voices drifting past his ears. His mind’s still hazy with fatigue, every thought a little blurry around the edges, mingling with the lingering vividness of some dream about college he doesn’t particularly care about.

He cares about the voices much more.

“Dan and I were talking,” says one. Taylor, he realizes a second later than he probably should. She must not be sitting on the lounge floor anymore because she sounds farther away.

He considers cracking his eyes open to check, but that takes effort.

“He said you didn’t wanna go to A&E,” she continues.

Dan’s stomach twists. If sleep wasn’t still rooted so heavily in his bones he would let them know he’s awake now just so she’d stop talking. In the same brilliance as a dream, Dan can picture Phil fidgeting, reaching up to comb his fringe out of his eyes like he always does.

He wonders if Taylor would notice that, too.

“He said that?” says the other voice, and Dan already knew it would be Phil but something shudders down his spine at the confirmation.

Taylor’s actually telling him about this.

There’s a hum, then silence. Dan wishes he could see. The dread has settled into a morbid curiosity now that he’s a little more awake, a little more aware, so he listens.

“Yeah,” says Phil. “I guess I was a little hesitant.”

“Hesitant?” says Taylor. “Or anxious?”

Dan has to count to keep his breath from catching. Four seconds to inhale and eight to exhale, once, twice, and a third time because his chest feels tight with knowledge he’s not supposed to have.

Knowledge he doesn’t have, he reminds himself. Phil still hasn’t responded.

Dan thinks that might be answer enough.

“I don’t mean to assume,” says Taylor. “I just have a bit of experience with that stuff. You can tell me if I’m wrong.”

There’s more silence. Phil still isn’t saying anything and Dan wonders if he’s staring at Taylor all wide-eyed and nervous like Dan did when she first asked him if he was ill. Or if he’s staring at the table, twisting his hand and letting his fringe cover his eyes the way Dan knows Phil does.

“Does Dan know?”

His breath does catch this time. And then he doesn’t breathe, too scared either of them noticed.

It’s not a yes, but it’s definitely not a denial either.

They must not have. There’s the quiet scratch of the chair against the floor, and a steady tapping Dan thinks must be someone’s foot. One of them, probably Phil, takes a deep breath, and Dan’s reassured enough that he does the same, easing some of the ache burning between his ribs.

“Dan has enough to worry about,” says Phil. “Besides, it’s mostly a resolved issue.”

And that’s it, a confirmation that shudders painfully through Dan’s chest.

“You should tell him,” says Taylor. “He’d want to know.”

Dan swallows. It sounds loud to his own ears, but no one else seems to hear it. His fingers twitch by the blanket still draped over his chest. He wants to pull it even tighter around himself.

He wants to wrap it around Phil and make sure he knows he can tell Dan things, too.

They don’t say another word after that.

Dan counts the seconds ticking by in his head until he thinks it’s been long enough that he can pretend to wake up.

---

Taylor stays for dinner.

Phil orders a pizza that they share as Dan sips at another smoothie. Taylor tells him about possibly changing her course and Phil offers advice far better than Dan could ever come up with. They laugh about how terrible they are at science. Dan joins in on that.

His chest aches afterwards. He’s not entirely sure it’s from the laughter.

When the pizza box is mostly empty and leftovers are being shoved into the fridge, Taylor tells them she should be heading out. She shoves her books into a backpack Dan didn’t realize she’d brought and thanks them for the food and the smile on her face looks real, looks happy.

She hugs Dan goodbye, the distant kind that doesn’t put any pressure against his ribs.

“Feel better,” she says. “And remember that he’s good for you.”

Dan watches her hug Phil afterwards, the tighter kind that has her standing on her toes instead of bending down. She says something against Phil’s shoulder, so quietly Dan can’t make out the words.

“Good luck with school,” Phil says in response.

Taylor laughs as she pulls away. “Thank you,” she says.

She looks like she means it.

Phil might be good for her, too, Dan thinks.

He wonders if either of them are good for Phil.

---

They sit on the sofa again that night.

It’s not even a conscious thing anymore when Dan presses himself against Phil’s side, letting his head drop to rest on Phil’s shoulder. Fingers thread into his hair and rub gentle patterns against his head and Dan stares at the TV screen, at whatever show’s playing now, but his vision can’t focus.

Neither can his brain.

The blanket is draped over both of them now, tucked in against Dan’s side and Phil’s thigh. Beneath it, Dan reaches over to rest his hand on Phil’s knee.

There was a time when that was the only part of Dan that Phil would touch. It seems like so long ago now.

“Can I ask you something?”

Phil looks away from the screen. His eyes look a little hazy. A soft smile curls at the corner of his mouth and makes Dan’s chest go warm.

“Of course,” he says.

Dan squeezes his knee. “How are you?” he says. His voice feels thick in his throat and breaks into a whisper. “I feel like last night was new for you and I just– Yeah. How are you?”

He watches Phil’s brows furrow, feeling something tighten in his stomach at the sight. White tears flash into his mind, a pale face and uncertain frown and Phil’s fingers gripping the hospital bed like he was even more unsteady than Dan had felt.

Dan wonders if his chest had ached, too. If something different had rooted itself between Phil’s ribs that night, took his breath the way pain stole Dan’s.

“I should be asking you that,” says Phil.

His fingers have gone still in Dan’s hair, his smile a little faded.

“I’m used to it, though,” says Dan. “You’re not, right? It was new for you?”

His hand tightens at the back of Dan’s neck. It sends a shot of pain down Dan’s spine, blooming across the back of his head, but he forces himself not to wince. He wants to hear what Phil has to say. He wants to listen, for once.

Phil deserves a friend that will listen,

“Yeah, I guess it was new,” says Phil. “But that doesn’t matter–”

“It matters to me.”

Phil’s eyes go wide and Dan wants to says of course it matters to me, you idiot, you’ve done more for me than anyone ever has, but it feels like too much. It all feels like too much, because Phil’s fingers move in his hair again so he’s cradling the back of Dan’s head.

Dan’s pretty sure he stops breathing.

But Phil just leans in closer and dusts a gentle kiss to Dan’s head.

Again.

He pulls away like it’s nothing, and tugs Dan back against his chest like he belongs there.

It feels like he does.

God, for the first time in so long it feels like he belongs somewhere.

“It was new for me, okay?” says Phil. “And maybe a little scary. Hospitals aren’t exactly my strong suit, and I don’t– It’s scary to see someone you care about attached to machines like that, even if they’re used to it. But I’m fine. I’d go there again tonight if you needed to.”

He sucks in a deep breath when he stops talking. Dan’s pressed so close to him, he can see, can feel the small stutter of his ribs.

“You would?” he asks.

Phil huffs out a laugh that makes no noise, but rumbles through his chest, echoes in Dan’s. “Of course I would,” he says, like it’s obvious.

Maybe it’s supposed to be.

Except no one else has ever been willing to do it before.

“You needed it,” says Phil. “I wanna help you when you need things.”

Dan smiles. His hand is still on Phil’s knee and Phil’s is still in his hair. He watches Phil’s chest rise and fall with a breath and forces himself to mirror it, past the pressure in his chest that burns bright and brilliant and new.

He’s used to a lot of things.

This, Dan realizes, isn’t one of them.

Maybe because, this time, something about it feels good.

He turns his head, hides his face against Phil’s shoulder so he can’t see the TV or the curtains or the silhouette of his hand on Phil’s leg through the blanket they’re sharing.

“I wanna help you when you need things, too,” he mumbles, pressing the words against Phil’s skin.

[sickdaysofficial]

Friends and fears

Sickdays Day 4: Hiding it

A story by @builder051

Fandom:  Builder051’s OCs (Mike & Co)

Warnings: Eating disorders, vague vomit mention, fainting

Notes: Welcome the new OCs Ash and Hannah!  This is a step back in time to Mike’s high school days when she was first getting sick and still had friends.  For more about these characters, check out the bio page here and the master fic list here.

_____

“Hey, Mike.  You there?”  Ash’s palm flashes back and forth in front of Mike’s face a few times, almost close enough to ruffle her eyelashes. 

Mike instinctively jerks back, smacking his hand away.  “Stop it.  What the fuck?”

“You were gone,” Ash laughs.  “I said your name, like, ten times.”

“Huh?”  Mike narrows her eyes, looking from him to Hannah, hoping to force out a joke. 

“No, that’s…” Hannah says uncertainly.  “Well, you’re back now.”

“Did you stay up really late?  Studying for the physics test?”  Ash thumbs through the messy binder laid out on the cafeteria table before him. 

“You know I don’t study.”  Mike digs her fingers into her hairline, hoping to dislodge some of the fog that’s settling into a headache.  It’s not even eight in the morning.  She shouldn’t be this…off.

So what if she hasn’t had breakfast?  A lot of people don’t eat breakfast. 

Those who regularly engage in such a lifestyle probably eat dinner, though.  Or keep it down, at least. 

Mike’s been perfectly empty for nearly 12 hours.  It’s easy.  She’s not hungry in the slightest.  There’s just this damn haze of heaviness and confusion.

“…Some practice problems, if you want to run them…”  Hannah’s talking.  And Mike’s missed it. 

“Naw, I think I’m ok,” Ash says, closing his notebook.  “I mean, multiple choice, how hard can it be?”

Hannah gives him a worried look.  “Did you study at all?”

“A little bit,” Ash says, going red.  “I went over notes.  Kinda.”

Hannah opens her mouth to say something else, but Mike interrupts.  “’S ok.  I didn’t look at anything.” 

“But you’re so smart!” Ash interjects, giving Mike a light slap on the shoulder.  “How ‘bout you keep the smart and you let me borrow the lucky?”

There’s barely force behind Ash’s tap, but it leaves Mike reeling all the same.  Her elbows balanced on the cafeteria table keep her steady, but she feels wobbly on the inside.  She’s not sure how she wants to respond to Ash, but luckily the bell rings and saves her the trouble of coming up with something substantive.. 

“Hm.  Ok.”  Mike scoops her backpack off the floor, trying not to stagger under its weight.  She should put some of her books away in her locker.  But that’ll have to be a project for later.  Despite her track record as an effortlessly good student, she’s not so sure about the exam waiting in first period.

At least her friends are forced to stop talking when they take their seats in the classroom.  It’s freezing in the starkly lit room, and Mike does her best not to touch the frigid black-topped lab bench.  She pulls a pencil from her bag and tries to ignore the growing throb at the top of her head.

The teacher hands out test papers, and Mike takes a deep breath.  For the first time in living memory, she wills herself to concentrate.  Stuff like this normally comes so easily.  But today, as she looks down at the slightly blurry text on the white sheet, she feels like she’ll be lucky to scrawl her name, let alone answer a single question.

The hour elapses slowly.  Mike flips through the exam packet, marking down the easy answers immediately and deciding to go back to the more challenging problems.  Stray thoughts repeatedly break up the lines of formulas and numbers in her head, and Mike winds up guessing on more questions than she’d like. 

She looks across the aisle at Hannah, bent over her test and scribbling intently.  She’s always lacked her friend’s resolved studiousness, but rarely fails to pull a good grade nonetheless.  She doubts it’s the case today, though.  By the end of the class period, Mike’s frustrated and more tired than ever.  When the bell rings, she drops her exam on the teacher’s desk, the paper sticking slightly to her sweaty palm, and makes for her locker without waiting for Ash to join her.

Mike empties her backpack of all but the essentials and pounds down the hallway to History.  It’s one of her least favorite subjects, though she normally at least pretends to follow along in the textbook as the teacher goes over notes.  Even that’s beyond her capabilities and care factor today.

“Yo, wait up,” Ash calls, sprinting down the hall to catch up with Mike.  She pauses outside the classroom door to wait.

“How’d the test go for you?” he asks.

Mike shrugs, not keen to think about it. 

“Probably easy, right?  You’re so good at everything.”  They take their seats side by side.  Ash nods toward the chalkboard, which is already set up with a set of facts about the Civil War.  “Notes will be relaxing, for once, after all those calculations.”

“As if you ever pay attention,” Mike quips.  But she doesn’t intend to pay attention either.

“Hey, I pay attention.  Just…until something else gets more interesting…”

Ash’s voice seems to be growing quieter.  Or maybe the blood rushing in Mike’s ears is just getting louder.  Her vision flickers, and the room sways slightly.  Mike blinks hard; she still feels like she’s in a snow globe.  She slowly bends forward to rest her head on the desk.

Ash pokes her in the shoulder.  “Hey.  What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Mike sighs.  She shoves upright and crosses her arms in front of her chest to hide her trembling hands.

“You got a headache or something?”

She does, on top of lingering dizziness and building nausea.  Not that she wants to talk about it.  “No.  I’m ok.”

Lots of people don’t eat breakfast.  Mike’s fine.  She’s done this countless times already, she should be fine.  So why does she feel like she’s going to throw up and fall asleep and jump out of her skin all at the same time?

“You sure?” Ash asks, looking unconvinced. 

“Shut up,” Mike mutters.  But the final bell rings, and the teacher calls the class to order.

Mike barely stays awake through History, and doesn’t stop herself from drifting off during English.  Teachers should really know better than to show movies in class.  Everyone’s either sleeping or texting.  The bell for lunch jolts Mike back to awareness, and she almost falls over as soon as she stands up. 

“Fuck,” she whispers, trying to get her hammering heart under control.  She shakily grabs her backpack and heads toward the cafeteria to meet Ash and Hannah. 

Mike normally dawdles through the food line to acquire a greasy paper plate or empty chip bag to take back with her, just to make it look like she’s eaten something.  She doesn’t see the point today, though.  And frankly, she’s not sure how long she’ll be able to stay on her feet. 

Her head is spinning and the back of her neck beading with cold sweat when she takes off her backpack and throws one long leg over the bench.  Mike collapses beside Hannah, who’s picking the crust off her sandwich. 

Across the table, Ash is still going on about the physics test.  “What did you put for that one about the skateboard?  And do you think that’s really a thing, a ramp that’s 210 feet tall?”

“It’s just a silly calculation.  I don’t think it really matters,” Hannah answers, all sound logic.  Then she turns to Mike.  “How was English? Another movie day?”

At least, that’s what Mike think she hears.  It would make sense.  And it requires the simplest of replies.  But she can’t form her thoughts into words.  Or remember how to open her mouth and speak.  Her head’s full of buckshot, rattling painfully and tipping the echoing cafeteria back and back and back…

Mike’s ponytail cushions the impact of her head against the linoleum tile, but sharp pain explodes from her back through her ribcage, stealing her shallow breath.

“Oh my god.”

“What the hell?”

“Is she ok?”

Questions seem to be coming from all sides, rapidly rising and lowering in volume.

Someone touches Mike’s shoulder, but she can’t see who it is through the vibrating glitter that’s overtaken her vision.  She can barely breathe through oppressive nausea.

“Mike, can you hear me?”  It’s definitely Hannah.  Her voice is unsteady, like she’s just shy of panic.

“Mm.”  What the fuck just happened?  Why is everybody freaking out?  She was just trying to take her test in peace.  Or…no, she was at lunch, talking about the test…  Thinking through the memories makes her head spin, so Mike drops the mental gymnastics. 

She takes a breath and focuses on her body.  Why does she feel so fucking sick?  Why is she lying on the floor?

Her lower legs are hooked over the cafeteria bench.  Mike twitches one of her feet in an awkward attempt to sit up. 

“No, stay put,” Hannah says, patting Mike’s knee.  “That’s a good recovery position, actually.”

“Huh?”

“Do you know what happened?”

“Mm,” Mike groans.  “I’m ok.”  She tries lifting her head this time.

“Hey, hey, don’t move.  You just passed out.  Are you sick?  I don’t think you have a fever…”  Hannah reaches up to cup Mike’s forehead.

“Ugh.  Stop it.”  Mike swats her hand away. 

“Ash went to get the nurse.  I don’t know if we should call an ambulance…”

“Shut up.  I’m fine.”  Mike braces against the floor and heaves herself up to a seated position.  Vertigo threatens to drop her back down, but she swallows hard and slides her feet down to the floor. 

“Ok.  Put your head between your knees.”  Hannah’s light touch forces Mike’s torso downward.  At least in this position she doesn’t have to see the whole cafeteria staring at her. 

“You’re gonna be ok,” Hannah soothes.  “They’ll figure out what’s wrong.  You’ll feel better real soon.”

Panic and paranoia rise in Mike’s chest with the lingering bubbles of confusion.  She lashes out, catching Hannah across the chest.  “Fuck off, ok?” Mike rasps. 

She knows Hannah’s probably right. 

And that’s what she’s afraid of.

[spxderman-s]

Apple Fritters {Part 2}

{part 1}

word count: 2.1k

pairings: peter parker x reader

warnings: some mentions of food, and some mentions of stalking. other than that--none. oh, i think there’s one little bad word in there somewhere.

a/n: i canNOT believe the popularity of part 1!!! like oh my lanta, that got wayyy more notes than i expected and honestly i’m so glad!! thank you to everyone for your support, it makes me feel amazing. so here is part 2, picking up basically where part 1 left off, with some introduction to more characters and getting a feel for the story. enjoy!!

Your footsteps echoed loudly throughout the now empty halls of Midtown, everyone had scurried off to their first classes. A wave of nervousness crashed over you as you clutched the paper that had your schedule on it tightly. You shouldn’t have stopped for breakfast, or stopped to talk to Peter. If you had gotten to admin at the right time, you wouldn’t be in this humiliating position of walking into your class, everyone staring at you, and maybe puking from embarrassment.

But then again...you wouldn’t have met Peter. You wouldn’t have made a new friend, someone who felt genuine and right. Someone who actually laughed at your jokes, who paid attention to what you said--someone you felt you could get closer to. You wanted to get close to him.

Looking at your crumpled schedule, you located your first class--AP Chemistry. Taking in a deep breath and steeling your nerves, you folded the paper back up and stuffed it into your bag, and entered the classroom.

Immediately all eyes were on you. You felt like that dream everyone talks about--the one where you’re standing in front of a large crowd and suddenly you’re naked. The teacher stopped mid-sentence, looking to you with eyebrows raised in question.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, pulling your folded schedule out again, handing it to her. “New student.” While she scanned the words, your eyes flitted over the many faces staring at you. Disappointed, you realized none of them were Peter.

She gave a warm smile. “[Y/N], is it?”

“Yeah.” Your fingers clutched the strap to your bag for dear life. your heart pounding in your chest.

“There’s an empty seat towards the back,” the teacher pointed. “Make yourself at home.”

You gave a nervous smile, moving as quickly as you could between the desks before you collapsed in one next to a heavy-set guy, who had a friendly grin on his face. He leaned over as you began pulling out your notebooks, the teacher resuming her lecture.

“I’m Ned,” he whispered to you, sticking out his hand.

“[Y/N],” you replied, taking it and giving it a shake. “But you already know that now.”

“First days are always tough, but you’ll get used to it.” He leaned back over and began taking notes, you following suit.

Towards the end of the class, the teacher disbanded everyone to work independently or in groups. Ned scooted his desk closer to yours, his eyes widening at your impressive note-taking skills. You took great pride in having clean handwriting, organizing them by subject, and sometimes even color coordinating them.

“Holy shit, dude,” he said. “Can I copy your notes at lunch?”

You laughed, slightly moving your notebook so it was lined up straight with your pencil. “Of course...and thank you, for giving me a reason to go to lunch--instead of hiding in embarrassment in the bathroom.”

Ned scribbled something down on a small piece of paper, pushing it towards you. “My number--in case you get lost or I don’t see you again before lunch.”

You blinked, taking it slowly. While this gesture could have been taken as flirting, it didn’t feel that way. You felt that Ned was genuinely trying to be a good, welcoming person. You almost teared up at the thought of how easy you were making friends today. “I--thank you. That’s really nice of you.”

“Not used to people being nice, I take it?”

You shook your head. “I was always the black sheep, you know?”

He rested his head on his hand, an empathetic look on his face. “Dude, I know.”

You both spent the rest of the class bonding over being outsiders, cracking jokes and getting excited over the fact that Ned had an unbuilt LEGO Death Star that he was trying to get his best friend to built it with him. Once the school bell rang, you both were smiling and laughing together like you had been friends for years. Packing up your bag, he looked at your pristine notes again.

“You know what you should do?”

You turned to look at him, closing your notebook and putting it neatly into your bag. “Hm?”

“You should join the Academic Decathlon team,” he said, as you both stood up together to leave. “Having you on our side would be amazing--what's your subject?”

You were stunned. “B-biology.”

“Even better! We don't have a Bio nerd in our squad.” Ned stopped after seeing the terrified look on your face. “You don't have to if you don't wanna. I did kinda dump it on you, on your first day.”

The bell rang as you both exited the classroom. Giving a long sigh, you bit your lip. “I want to get used to the school before I think about joining any clubs.”

Ned shrugged, holding the straps to his backpack. “No worries, dude. I totally understand.” He gestured behind him. “I've got Physics, so I gotta bounce. But if you change your mind--you know where to find me.” With another friendly grin, he disappeared into the sea of students.

The classes you had after that passed by smoothly. You made more friends--none like Peter or Ned--but everyone seemed to warm up to you quickly. You desperately needed a break, and lunch was up next. Meandering through the halls, following the crowd, you kept turning your phone over in your hand, debating on whether or not you wanted to text Ned.

You didn't need to. As your entered the cafeteria, you heard a familiar voice call, “[Y/N]! Over here!”

Following the direction of the voice, you saw Ned sitting at an almost empty table--sitting next to him was Peter, from the subway. Your heart did flip flops in your chest, your pulse sky-rocketing. Your eyes met, and he instantly sat up straighter, a grin spreading over his dimpled face. You gave a nervous wave as you approached their table, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“This was the girl I was telling you about,” Ned poked Peter’s shoulder, breaking your eye contact with him. “You know, who should join the team?” Sitting down across from him, your hands shook as you pulled a bag of carrots and a sandwich out of your bag.

“Hey, Parker Pete,” you teased.

“No apple fritters?” Peter teased back, laughter edging his words.

Ned frowned. “Wait, do you guys know each other?”

“This is, uh, the girl I was telling you about. From the subway this morning.” Peter’s cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink.

“It's a small world,” you admitted with a smile, popping a carrot in your mouth. “And no fritters--I'm waiting on you to buy me a new one.”

Ned’s eyebrows slowly raised, and his eyes bounced between you and Peter, as if he could sense what was going on. “Should I give you two some privacy?”

You nearly choked on your carrot, and Peter gave him a deathly glare.

“Kidding. I'm kidding!” Ned shook his head and began eating his lunch. “But seriously, show him your notes from Chem, [Y/N].”

You nervously pulled out your notebook and pushed it towards Peter. He avoided your eyes, and opened the first page, his interest immediately peaking. “Wow. [Y/N], this--this is incredible.”

You blushed furiously again, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “They're just notes.”

“Just notes?” Peter repeated incredulously. “Imagine what your mind can do!” He stopped himself suddenly, laughing nervously. “I mean, not--not to be weird or anything.”

“I just want to get my bearings first,” you sighed, knowing it was the right thing to do, despite your eagerness to join the team. “Maybe in a few weeks, you can try asking me again?”

While they both looked disappointed, they understood. You spent the rest of lunch talking about studying and homework, planning on building Ned’s Death Star, and possibly hanging out over the weekend. The entire time you stole glances at Peter, and every single time you caught him staring at you--only to look away shyly, the muscle in his jaw flickering in nervousness.

The rest of the day passed, and Peter offered to help you get home. You walked together along the quiet streets of Queens, until you stopped in front of the steps to your apartment, turning to him. “This is me,” you spoke nonchalantly, but your voice rising an octave gave you away.

“Nice place,” he observed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

The two of you stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say, until he opened his mouth--only to close it again.

“What?” you asked, pushing your hair over your shoulders. He stared at you for a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. The way he looked at you set your heart on fire, your skin prickling with excitement. He stepped forwards, reaching out and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingertips brushed your cheek, leaving a trail of fire where they touched. You stared at him, stunned, not knowing what to say. Your heart was pounding so loud you were afraid he would hear it.

But there was so much you wanted to say. I think we should kiss, kept replaying over and over in your head, screaming at you to just speak it aloud.

He shook his head, taking a step back to leave. “I'll--uh--see you at school.”

Disappointed in yourself for not speaking up, you gave a tiny wave. “See you.”

He smiled, and jogged away down the street, leaving you standing in front of your apartment, wondering how soft his lips would feel against yours, craving his touch and closeness again.

“[Y/N], make sure you get all your homework done before you knock out for the night,” your brother called down the hall to you. “Goodnight, kiddo.”

“Yeah, yeah...g’night,” you replied absentmindedly from the kitchen, staring at the blank pages of homework in front of you, tapping your pencil in frustration. Looking up at the clock, it was almost eleven. You couldn’t concentrate. You felt boxed in, caged like a bird in your own home. And you couldn’t stop thinking about Peter, the way he looked at you and moved the strand of your hair. Sitting up straight, you leaned back to see if your brother’s door was closed. Seeing that the coast was clear, you quickly tossed a sweatshirt on and stepped into a pair of shoes as quietly as you could, slinging your bag over your shoulder. As silent as a mouse, you painstakingly opened the front door, slipped out, and closed it as softly as possible.

As soon as you were free, you flew down the stairs and out the door, sighing in relief as the cool, nighttime air surrounded you. You began walking, hands in your pockets, admiring the city lights on the horizon, and the voices carrying in the breeze. You weren’t sure how far you walked, until you found yourself in unfamiliar territory--and it was dark. Very dark.

Turning around to try and go back the way you came, you saw two bulky figures walking towards you. Your skin prickled, getting a very bad feeling. Keeping your head down, you moved to the other side of the street and continued on your way.

But you could feel their eyes on you.

You quickened your pace, hearing their footsteps following yours, until suddenly you heard the unmistakeable sounds of punches landing.

Whirling around, you recognized the guy in the red and blue suit from the YouTube video standing over the two men who were following you-- they were both knocked out cold.

“This is what happens when you stalk people at night,” he spat to them, before turning to you. “Are--are you alright?”

You were dumbfounded, unable to find your voice.

The masked hero took a few steps closer to you. “You know, you shouldn’t be out this late by yourself.”

“I just--I just wanted to get some air,” you croaked out. He was standing in front of you now, the spiderweb design on his suit coming into view. “You’re--you’re that guy. The spider guy.”

“Spider-Man,” he corrected proudly.

“‘Spider-Man’” you repeated, staring at him with your mouth open. “I thought that was a prank or something--for views.” You could tell he was a little hurt by your words, so you reached out, poking him in the center of his chest. “But you’re real.”

He rubbed the spot where you poked him sheepishly. “I’m real, don’t worry. You aren’t going crazy.” Spider-Man was silent for a moment, before gesturing behind you. “Let me walk you home--make sure you get there in one piece.”

All you could do was nod, still staring at him. His voice was filtered, but it sounded so incredibly familiar. The way he talked, his little body language habits, it made you feel like you had known him all your life. You began to walk together in silence towards your apartment, stealing glances at this “superhero” everyone loved to talk about.

He came to a stop in front of your building.

“This is me,” you said for the second time that day.

Spider-Man crossed his arms casually. “Don’t go wandering at night anymore, okay?”

“Okay.”

It was only until you had returned to your room, laying awake while the stars twinkled outside your window, thinking of the weird encounter of the night, that you realized you had never told Spider-Man where you lived, yet he guided you there regardless.

[xofanfics]

Choices - Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Genre: angst, fluff

Pairing: Mark x Reader, Johnny x Reader

Word Count: 2k

*REQUESTED* Can you do a scenario where you are Mark’s classmate in college and he likes you, whilst Johnny who happens to be an upperclassman but was your tutor back in high school likes you too? And you are kinda torn between them and don’t know who to choose. You can put her up with anyone toward the end, your wish. I just want romance with both of them being into her and confusion on her part. TIA ❤

Johnny walked with you and your friends to the other side of campus, to your dormitory; Melissa and Mark walked behind you. Though you didn’t know it, Mark burned with jealousy. He wanted to be the one walking with you. You weren’t holding his hand or anything special, but he was still feeling jealous. He didn’t know for sure if things would escalate between you two or not after tonight but he was still uneasy, nonetheless. It seemed like he might like you. Either that, or he just had a flirty personality.

Johnny said, “I’m glad you came out tonight. I didn’t know you were into parties and stuff.”

You nodded. “Well I don’t think I’ll go out every day of every weekend but I like to party sometimes.”

“You were much quieter when we were in high school…”

“Well, yeah, I was awkward and still going through puberty. I’d say I’m doing much better now. Plus, you were my tutor. It’s not like we were best friends or anything like that.”

He said, “You’re right. I could still help you out if you’re still bad at science. You can just text me whenever you need help.”

You stuck your tongue out at him. “I'll think about it…”

Mark and Melissa walked into the dorm without waiting for you.

“Goodnight, Johnny.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You waved playfully before going inside. You wanted to hug him or give him another kiss, even. But since he didn't make any move to hug or kiss you, you decided not to. The last thing you wanted to do was scare him off over something so stupid. You couldn't even determine if he had any feelings for you. He was probably just flirting because you'd all been drinking. You wouldn't know until you were both sober. And that's if he even brought it up.

You got back to the room. Mel was already in her bed, probably looking for a movie to watch on her laptop. Mark was gone, most likely to his room. You didn't blame it. It was 4am. You stripped out of your clothes, throwing them into the hamper before climbing into your bed.

Mel said, “So did you kiss again?”

“Nah.”

“Why not?”

“I have to see if he acts different when we’re sober.”

“Good point,” she said, turning back to her movie.

You woke up in the morning to the sound of Melissa shuffling in the room. When she noticed you were awake, she said, “Kevin invited us to eat breakfast. You coming?”

Rubbing your eyes, you looked at the clock; it was about nine. “Seriously?” You rolled back over, pulling the blanket over your head. “We just went to sleep.”

“Please come,” she whined. “I wanna have breakfast with Kevin...Just get up. You can go right back to sleep after breakfast. Mark said he'll come too. Let's just all go together.”

You threw off your blanket and mumbled, “Fine.”

Mark was still thrown off by last night. He wasn't going to lie; he was a bit hungover. He got up to use the bathroom this morning and that's when he saw the text from Mel to go to breakfast with the friends they made last night. He agreed to go. If Mel was going that probably meant that you would come too.

Then he remembered that you'd stayed outside with Johnny for at least a few minutes. Did he kiss you? Did you kiss him? He knew that he should confess that he liked you but how could he do it comfortably knowing that you and Johnny possibly liked each other? He couldn't confess to you yet; not until he knew if you liked Johnny or not or until he at least knew if you were interested in dating or not.

His roommate wasn't that concerned about having a girlfriend. He told Mark that he broke up with his high school girlfriend because they were going to different colleges and it would've been too hard. Mark didn't blame him. Long distance was hard, especially in college where there was so much temptation.

Mark never had a girlfriend before but he wanted to experience what it was like to have one. He much preferred to spend his time with one person rather than bouncing from girl to girl like a lot of your hall mates. It had only been about a week and you had already seen different girls going in and out of the rooms on your floor. Mark was also a virgin, so he couldn't relate to the guys that only seemed to be concerned about getting between a girl’s legs.

He put a pair of basketball shorts on with a t-shirt and slid on his Nike slippers before heading toward your room. You and Mel were waiting in the hallway, leaning on the wall.

“Morning guys,” Mark said.

“Morning,” you mumbles.

“Someone’s cranky…”

You looked half asleep but Mark still thought you were beautiful, in your mesh shorts, tank top and flip flops. He loved how you didn't care how you looked all the time and didn't bother to put on a whole face of makeup anytime you had to step outside. You were so down to earth and he loved that about you. Maybe that was why he was so drawn to you in the first place.

The three of you walked to the dining hall together, swiping your ID cards and heading inside to meet your new friends. You saw Kevin right away. He had a table with two other people you remembered from last night. He stood up, waving you and your friends over.

“Hey, Mark, Y/N,” he sang. “Glad Melissa brought you guys along.”

You smiled and excused yourself to grab some food before sitting down with your new friends. A few minutes later, you returned with a plate full of french toast sticks and some bacon with a bowl of strawberries. And you talked with your new friends over breakfast. You stayed in the cafeteria for at least an hour. Everyone talked, occasionally getting up to go to the bathroom or to get more food.

You got to know each other. From what you gathered, you liked these people and you could see yourself hanging out with them more often. And from the looks of it, Melissa and Kevin were getting pretty cozy.

Two weeks came and went, more quickly than you thought. You spoke to Johnny here and there, but it was nothing special. Maybe he didn’t like you. Maybe that night had just been part of the dare and nothing more. The kiss must not have meant anything to her, a mere dare that had to be completed so he wouldn’t look like a wimp in front of everyone else. Maybe having feelings for Johnny were meaningless.

You opened up your web browser to check your grades after class. Unfortunately, you didn’t do so well on your biology quiz. To be fair, you didn’t study as hard as you could’ve. You’d spent the night watching movies with Mark and Melissa instead of going to the library and studying like you said you were going to.

“What’s wrong?” Mark asked.

“I got a 60 on my bio quiz,” you whined. “If I can’t pass a stupid quiz, how can I pass the exam next week?”

Mark chuckled. “Don’t be so dramatic. You just have to review everyday, like me.”

“Are you saying you’re better than me?” you teased.

Mark put his hand on his chin. “I’m just saying that I’m a little more organized than you are when it comes to studying.” He reached across the library table for your notebook. “I mean, look...Your notes are all over the place. There’s song lyrics and scribbles in here.”

You snatched the notebook from Mark’s grasp. “Hey! You try sitting in that guy’s class for fifty minutes every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”

“I was just saying…”

“I’ll just sign up for tutoring,” you said. “I can always change my mind later.”

Mark nodded as you went online to the tutoring services and signed up for tutoring for biology once a week, on Fridays at two o’clock. A few minutes later, you got an email confirming the time and the tutor name. Without a doubt, it read Johnny Seo.

To be honest, you were a little annoyed that you got him as a tutor. If your feelings were mutual, this would’ve been good news. But you were positive that Johnny didn’t like you in the same way that you liked him. So, him being your tutor for biology was just whatever. You wished that you could’ve gotten a random person that you didn’t know as a tutor, just so you didn’t have to be reminded every Friday that the person you liked didn’t like you back.

But Johnny was nice to you, you had to admit. You guessed it was because you went to the same high school. And also because you were younger than him. Maybe that was why he didn’t like you. Maybe the two year age difference made him see you only as a friend or younger sister. That must be it, you thought.

“What’s wrong?” Mark asked, looking up from his computer and noticing your frown.

You shook your head. “It’s nothing, really. I got Johnny as a tutor…”

Mark was curious as to why you weren’t happy upon hearing the news that you were assigned him as a tutor. Did you not like him anymore? Had something happened between you too? He was really close with you at this point but he didn’t want to seem too nosy if he asked questions. So he stayed quiet, not mentioning Johnny or asking if you liked him. It was better off that way. If you wanted to tell him something, you would. He knew that for a fact.

Mark decided to ease into it. “Is that...bad?”

“I just don’t think he likes me. No big deal…”

“I’m sorry…”

You nodded. “It’s okay.”

He hated how sad you looked. He didn’t want you to be sad, especially not over some guy that didn’t even return your feelings.

“How about we go out on Friday? It’ll make you feel better. We can go to the fair. It started last weekend.”

That brought a smile to your lips. “Really?” Mark nodded. “I’d like that.”

Mark didn’t mention that he wanted it to be a date but he decided that it was too soon. He didn’t want to make it seem like he was only doing this because he realized that things weren’t going to work out between you and Johnny. He genuinely wanted to cheer you up, but he also harbored some feelings for you, feelings that you didn’t know about. Mark tried his hardest to hide them, trying to be a friend to you so that you didn’t discover how he felt about you.

He wanted to tell you how he felt about you but he also didn’t want to do it at the wrong time. He didn’t want to tell you that he liked you if you were into Johnny. If he had to wait, he’d do it. He’d much rather have you as his friend than nothing at all. It just sucked because he thought about how different things could be if only you knew and if only you accepted his love.

He’d treat you well. He knew that you never really had a relationship before; not outside the three week relationships a lot of people have in high school but never go anywhere with. Mark had had one of those too. He knew all of the things you liked and you even shared some deep things with him, going into the details of your parents’ divorce and how you and your best friend from high school hadn’t spoken since graduation night. You trusted him and he trusted you. It would be perfect and convenient if you got together; you lived in the same building and could see each other all the time, if you really wanted to. You could spent nights cuddling and hold hands while walking through campus.

But he couldn’t do these things; not yet.