Mask

Mask

Summary: (Y/n) shows Ghost a different kind of mask.

Wordcount: 1.252

The myth, the phantom, the death with the mask, Ghost flinched.

(Y/n) just rolled her eyes.

Simon continued to stare blankly at her.

(Y/n) stared back.

Simon made circular motions in front of his face with his index finger and looked at his girlfriend questioningly.

"A sheet mask.", she explained and closed her eyes. "My skin is always dry in winter, so I do it more often."

Simon continued to look at his girlfriend. He had only recently started spending the night at her place more often. As a result, they had become more familiar with each other's daily rituals.

(Y/n) knew that he got up at 4 a.m. every day. (Y/n) had immediately given him a wrist alarm clock that vibrated to wake him up, so she wouldn't be constantly woken up in 'the middle of the night' just because he wanted to exercise.

By now, Simon was familiar with her evening beauty routine, as well as the weekly, extensive 'reset', as she called it. Bath, face mask, peeling, hair removal, eyelash lift (something that frankly terrified him), henna make-up, eyebrows-something.

He couldn't see through it, but it seemed to do her good.

Still, this image was new.

"Tell your eyebrows to relax.", she murmured.

Simon forced his face to relax. "Sorry.", he grumbled.

"It's okay." She relaxed and leaned her head back against the back of the sofa. "My face is just too small for these things. But it's so nice and cool on the skin." A grin steels itself on her lips. "I'm sure they'd fit you better."

Simon just grumbled dismissively as a ring went off from (Y/n)s phone. She jumped up and headed for the bathroom. His unmasked girlfriend came back and grinned mischievously at him.

"What?", he asked immediately, alarmed.

She pulled a small packet out from behind her back and held it under his nose.

"No.", Simon clarified and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

She pouted. "Oh, come on. It's really nice and good for your skin."

Simon raised an eyebrow. He pointed to his face. "Good for the skin? You can see the cheshire smile, can't you? Or the scar that nearly cost me my eye? The burn-"

"Simon-" she interrupted him. "I mean that..." She took a deep breath. "You think I haven't noticed that you have scarring pain and always get earaches when the weather changes, or that your eyes hurt when it storms?" She looked at the little blue packet. "Something like that helps to provide relief.", she pouted.

Simon sighed. He had hoped she wouldn't notice. "All right."

He sat down forcefully on the sofa and crossed his arms.

(Y/n) looked at him before she carefully grabbed his hand and pulled it.

"To the bathroom.", was all she said.

"What for?"

"I have to prepare the face first.", she shrugged.

Simon looked at her. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

(Y/n) shook her head in amusement, but pulled him behind her.

No sooner had Simon been placed on the toilet seat than she reached for a tube in her arsenal.

She squeezed a white, creamy substance onto her fingers and looked at him, beaming. "Can I?", she asked.

Simon nodded. She dabbed his face with a wet towel and then began to spread the stuff over his face. Her hands massaged in circles over his skin.

"What's that?", he asked.

"Cleansing milk.", she said simply.

"You know soap works too."

"Men." she just mumbled. "Wash up." she delegated.

Simon leaned over the sink and rinsed the stuff off.

He was immediately pushed back onto the seat and dabbed with a towel.

He was still processing the feeling on his skin, when (Y/n) reached for another bottle and dabbed the contents onto a cotton pad.

She ran it over his forehead, his cheeks and his chin. She was particularly careful with his larger scars. Simon looked at her concentrated face. Warmth fluttered around his heart.

She threw the small piece of cotton into the garbage can next to the sink.

Simon noticed that his skin wasn't as tight as usual. He usually just took a bar of soap and washed himself with it.

(Y/n) finally tore open the blue packaging and pulled out a slippery-looking white something.

"That looks weird", he said.

(Y/n) just grumbled in agreement. "Put your head back a little.", she said, gently placing her hands on his jaw and pushing his head into the desired position.

Simon waited patiently. She carefully placed the face-shaped thing first on his forehead, then his nose and then positioned the cut-outs so that they matched his facial features.

"Yes, your face is better suited to the standard size.", she sighed as she adjusted the piece here and there.

Simon let his eyes fall shut as she started to scratch his scalp.

"And?" she asked softly, sitting down on his lap for comfort.

He hummed with pleasure. "Refreshing.", was all he said.

She laughed and pulled her hands back towards her, but Simon immediately pulled them back to his head.

He kept his eyes closed the whole time, enjoying (Y/n's) caring hands.

Only when her phone beeped again and she slowly pulled the mask off his face, did he let his eyes flutter open again.

Her fingers began to massage in the excess fluid.

He let his arms move around her hips and pulled her against his chest.

She grinned at him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Satisfied?", he asked.

She nodded, beaming, and stroked his short hair again.

He pressed a kiss to her nose and buried his freshly groomed face in her neck.

"What are you doing?"

Simon put the pink tube back in its place in a flash. "Nothing."

(Y/n) looked at him with amusement. Simon looked back, caught off guard.

She reached into the small cupboard under the sink and pulled out two headbands. She put one on and pressed the other, still wrapped, into Simon's hand. "Move over.", she said, nudging him lightly with her hip.

Simon put the band to one side and held out his hand as (Y/n) squeezed a small amount of the cleansing cream onto her fingertips. She also put a small amount on his hand, put the tube down and started to clean her face. Simon did the same in silence.

They each went about their own business.

"You do know, that we will be doing this always together when you're here from now on, don't you?"

"I had suspected."

(Y/n) grinned and put on under-eye pads. She also held a pair out to Simon.

He looked at the two gel pads extensively, before pressing them to his face, as (Y/n) had done.

"I still have a lot to show you my friend.", she grinned.

Simon looked at her. Without make-up, wearing only one of his shirts, she stood there and had never been so beautiful as with those green things under her eyes.

He smiled gently at her. "I'm a fast learner."

She pulled him in for a quick kiss. "I noticed.", she smiled and pushed the slipped pad back into place.

"You and Johnny would get along well.", he muttered. "His ratio of hair care products to actual careable hair is irrational."

(Y/n) shook her head with a laugh and scratched the back of his neck. "I'd rather spoil you."

He rested his forehead against hers. "Thank you."

once again!! men moaning !! men groaning !! men breathing heavy !! men just making noise !!

you don’t talk too much. you aren’t too loud. you aren’t too needy. you aren’t too sensitive. you aren’t too this, or that. you aren’t too much anything. you will never be too much: you are you, and you are allowed to take up space. you are allowed to exist however you choose.

✧˖°.🎧⋆ ˚｡⋆☕₊˚.🍂

source

Patchwork II - Growing Up

This is the second part to this story:

https://www.tumblr.com/drmaddict/721982589869621248/patchwork?source=share

Summary: Growing up comes with a lot of challenges.

Warnings: teenagers fighting on a party, fluff, use of (y/n)

Word count: 2.757

"What are you doing here?"

Mike stoped in his movement. He had almost made it.

"Nothing." he said far too quickly and turned to Henry. Disappearing the small something in the pocket of his jacket pocket.

Henry just raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "If I remember correctly, everyone's privacy is considered here."

"I... I just needed... batteries.", Mike stuttered.

Henry grinned. "You'll have far more success in (y/n)s cabinet."

Mike turned bright red and looked down at the floor.

"Mike come on. I was young once, too."

The boy tossed the condom packet on the bed and continued to look at the floor. Hoped fervently it would open up and swallow him.

Henry closed the bedroom door and sat down on the armchair in the corner of the room. "We should talk about this, right?"

Mike shook his head. "You know the internet is very informative," he muttered, still red-faced.

Henry smiled. "Yeah. I know. I was young once, too," he pointed out again. "But that doesn't change the fact that these with latex and we know you're allergic to it thanks to your chemistry experiment in school."

"Oh."

"Yeah oh. Mike there is nothing wrong with wanting to be prepared. You can talk to me about anything, but you don't go digging around in my or (y/n)s stuff! ... We don't want to traumatize you right away," Henry continued to grin.

Mike turned to the window, overwhelmed, and buried his face in his hands. "Too much information!"

Henry laughed amused.

Mike looked at him sullenly.

"Sorry big guy. I'll stop." Henry raised his hands placatingly. "You and Amber have been together for so long, it's understandable you want to make that step.... She wants too, right?"

Mike slumped a little. "Yes Amber does." he mumbled.

Henry stopped. "What about you?"

Mike shrugged.

"You don't have to."

"I should want to, shouldn't I?"

"You don't have to do anything you're not ready to do. No matter what anyone at school might say."

Mike plopped down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling.

"I don't know if I.... quite yet..." Mike waved his arms around. Who could have guessed that such a tall and strong teenager could look so small.

"Sex can have many sides Mike."

Mike just grumbled.

"Start with something you feel comfortable with. You'll figure out what you like."

Mike sighed. "And what if I do it wrong?"

"That's the beauty of it. There is no wrong. Just two people and agreement. This isn't a boxing match Mike. There's no perfect technique and no strategy. But at least talk openly to Amber about what you want. Share it with her somehow. You wouldn't want her to torture herself for you either, would you?"

"Of course not!" he blurted out immediately. He immediately sat up and looked shocked.

"Then do her the same favor."

Mike sighed. "Yeah okay."

Henry smiled gently. He stood up and walked over to his nightstand. "Here." He tossed a red packet at Mike. "These are latex-free."

Mike caught them more poorly than he could.

"And now get out of here!"

The blond haired boy stumbled out of the room as fast as he could, still bright red.

The adjacent bathroom door opened and (y/n) peered through the gap. "You'll have far more success in (y/n)'s cabinet," she mimicked him. "Did you have to violate him with that picture?"

Henry grinned. "As long as I have to listen to Humphrey jokes, yes."

"Men." she rolled her eyes and went back into the bathroom. "You coming now?"

Henry ran after her at a quickly.

Henry was sitting on the sofa reading a script when Lilly shot through the door and quickly ran up the stairs.

"Lilly?"

"No time!"

"Why aren't you at dance practice?"

The door to her room slammed into the lock and he just heard the key turn. Damn.

"Lilly, what's wrong?" he called through the door.

"I need (y/n)!" she called back.

"(Y/n) is not here! I can help you. Now open up."

"Or Mimmy or Fatima!"

"Why not me?"

"I need a woman!"

Henry sighed. "At least tell me what's wrong."

"I've got my period!"

Henry faltered. "First time?" he asked uncertainly.

"What do you think?" she yelled through the door.

"Lilly this is-"

The door was yanked open. "Don't tell me that's normal now!" She held up a finger.

Henry looked overwhelmed at the delicate now 12-year-old creature. "Do you know how shitty it is for women who do professional sports to still have to deal with something like this?"

She cringed and screwed up her face. Henry gently supported her.

"Okay. You just take a deep breath and lie down. I'll call (y/n) and then we'll take it one step at a time."

She let herself be led to her bed and lay down on it.

"I'll be right back."

Lilly nodded and pulled the covers over her.

Henry went into the kitchen and got a hot water bottle ready while he pulled out his cell phone and called (y/n).

"Hello?"

"Hey... Uhm little problem-"

"Did Mike break something again?"

"No! No Mike is fine... I think... Lilly just stormed through the door and it turns out she's on her period. She's freaking out right now and thinks her dancing career is over."

(Y/n) sighed. "Can't I have an undramatic child?"

"And your hope was in Lilly, of all people?"

She sighed before pulling herself together.

"Fine. You-"

"Hot water bottle's on. I'll make tea in a minute."

"Perfect. I'll buy her whatever she needs. Give me half an hour. Try to keep her calm until then."

"And how-"

Tuut tzut

Henry looked at his phone, perplexed.

He wasn't disgusted by it. God it was just normal, but he knew Lilly. And Lilly always knew exactly how she thought things should be. That her body was now 'betraying' her was hard for her to swallow.

Carefully, he walked back to her room.

"Hey princess. Are you okay?"

"No." she pouted.

He sighed. "Here. For the cramps. The tea is gross, but it always helps (y/n)."

She reached for the cup, smelled it, and put it right back down. "What's this?"

Henry laughed lightly. "I don't know."

Lilly grabbed the hot water bottle and placed it on her stomach.

Henry sat down by her bed. "(Y/n) will be right in."

"Good."

Silence settled over the room. Uncomfortable silence.

"You know there are a lot of female athletes." said Henry, looking at the shelf of trophies and medals.

Lilly just puffed and continued looking at her blanket, tugging at a loose thread.

Henry sighed.

"I didn't even get to go to practice today," she grumbled.

He patted her hand. "I'm really not an expert on this," Henry said.

"But?"

"Unfortunately, that's it."

Lilly rolled her eyes. "Men." she grumbled.

"Yup. You're a woman now."

All eight sat at the kitchen table, looking spellbound at Fatima, who had three letters in front of her.

One from Oxford. One from Cambridge. One from Havard.

"What do I start with?" asked Fatima for the first time in a long time with no real plan.

"We can open all  three at the same time," (y/n) suggested.

"I can't do that," Fatima groaned, already pushing the letters away from her.

Henry stroked her back soothingly.

"Deep breaths."

Fatima drew in an exaggeratedly deep breath.

"Me one, you one, and (y/n) one. Okay?"

Fatima nodded and grabbed the letter from Oxford.

All three tore open the envelope and pulled out the letters.

Fatima let out an uncharacteristically pointed scream. "I did it!"

Henry looked questioningly at (y/n). She just nodded with a smile.

"Three times, actually," Henry grinned. Fatima snatched the cover letter from their hands and skimmed the pages. "Oh, God. What am I going to do now? How am I supposed to decide?"

"No, no, no!", Henry grabbed her by the shoulders. "First rejoice! Then mull it over."

"You did it.", beamed (y/n) at Fatima. "God I'm so damn proud of you. Come here." She pulled the girl into her arms.

"I'm worth something," Fatima whispered.

"You always have been and you always will be. Do you hear?"

Fatima nodded and let herself be pulled back into the embrace. Everyone jumped up and hugged the two until there was only a tangle of family in the kitchen.

It was Emilia's birthday. Emilia had invited friends. Emilia had invited her boyfriend. Joseph. Henry sat in the bedroom, watching the boy in the garden through the window with suspicion.

He had decided he didn't like him. There was something boastful about him. He had also overheard him calling a classmate fat, which brought up unpleasant memories.

"Want some night vision for later?", (y/n) grinned at him and held out a coffee.

Henry grunted. "I'm just keeping an eye out."

(y/n) continued to grin.

"I just don't like him," he blurted out. "He's such...such-"

"Such a spoiled asshole?"

Henry looked at her in surprise.

"Hey I'll let them have their way. I'm not always for it by a long shot." she stated defensively.

Henry looked back into the garden. "What's going on now?"

A flurry of activity arose in the party. Joseph could be seen talking vigorously at Emilia, and Emilia's face grew smaller and smaller.

Henry immediately got up and went down the stairs. (Y/n) right at his heels.

"Joseph-" he heard Emilia's broken voice.

"Are you doing everybody now, or what?" followed Jospeh.

"That's not even-"

"Keep your fucking lies to yourself!"

Henry pushed his way through the group of teenagers when he already saw Mike pushing his way between them. A good head and a half taller than Jospeh, he had an intimidating effect for now.

"Think about what you're saying!" said Mike emphatically.

"Yeah. You don't want anyone to know that she's already spread her legs for the whole school. You know, some girls appreciate staying pure."

You would have thought Mike would have just put him in a headlock and dragged him out, but it was Fatima, of all people, who hit him with a skillful hook and sent him staggering back.

"Don't you ever talk to my sister like that again.", she hissed at him. "Now get the fuck out of this house or you'll learn what it's like to have Mike break you."

Joseph stumbled backward toward the patio, where Henry was already waiting for him. He grabbed the boy roughly by the back of the neck and pulled him along. "I better drive you home," he growled.

(Y/n) went to Emilia and Fatima and took care of damage control.

Henry, meanwhile, pulled Jospeh with him and shoved him into his car.

"Get in! Buckle up!"

Jospeh reluctantly obeyed him.

Henry started the engine and drove off. "If I ever see you treat my daughter like that again, you'll meet my brother. Royal Marines. Think about it."

Joseph looked at him angrily. "Do you want to threaten me?"

"Yes I am. Because we're going to your mother's house right now, and she's welcome to find out how her little sunshine is doing." The boy got smaller. Figures. Henry rolled his eyes. "Now shut up."

He dropped Joseph off at his parents' house, calmly told his mother that there had been an altercation and that her son's image of women could be set straight, and drove back home.

The party had broken up. Forgotten mugs still stood in the garden and rapidly changing lights shone from the living room.

Henry peeked around the corner and saw everyone spread out together in the living room watching 'The little mermaide'. 

Emilia loved Disney movies more than anything. Since no one really knew how she grew up, they just assumed she was making up for a little childhood with it.

Henry quietly disappeared into the kitchen and retrieved his secret weapon.

When he returned, he leaned over to Emilia and held out a cup of hot white chocolate. Filled with colorful marshmallows. "Here. Helps with heartache."

Her eyes sparkled slightly with tears. "Thanks," she whispered, moving a little to the side.

Henry somehow squeezed in next to her and held her close.

(Y/n) smiled gently at him from across the room.

Henry was sitting in the kitchen drinking his coffee when he heard a car come to a stop in front of the house.

He looked out the window and saw Jason's car.

Not a minute later, the boy was standing in front of Henry, looking at him frantically. He held up a pile of sheets. "Taxes." was all he said.

Henry looked uncertainly at the pile.

"Um."

"How do you do your taxes?" asked Jason, exasperated. "I've got side jobs and income from YouTube. But if I do the math, I get 4,000 pounds back and that can't be right!"

"You know..."

"Henry help me!"

"I've got an accountant! No one knows how to do this!" blurted out Henry.

Jason stared at him. "How much does an accountant cost?"

Henry's face turned pitiful. Jason understood and slumped. "Is (y/n) there?"

"Coming in an hour."

"Whiskey?"

"It's eleven in the morning."

"It's taxes! Help me or give me the whiskey!"

Henry immediately reached for the bottle and handed it to the boy.

"How much do you actually make from YouTube?"

Jason waved it off and took a big swig from the bottle.

"Do you have a minute?"

Henry turned to the little thirteen yearold boy who was looking at him with his dark puppy eyes.

"Sure Kamon, what's up?"

Henry signaled to Kal that it was time to take a break from playing, to which the furry mountain just puffed and threw himself into the shadows.

"So... What do... Girls... How does someone ask for a... date?"

Henry looked at the boy's face, who looked as if he would like to disappear into the ground.

Henry smiled gently and sat down on the steps of the terrace. He motioned Kamon to join him. Henry threw Kal's ball without much force and started to speak. "Well the difficult thing is that every girl is different," he smiled. "Everyone's going to like something different."

Kamon looked to Kal, who put the ball down in front of them. The boy grabbed it and it was now in his turn to throw the ball. 

"How do I know what to do?" he sighed.

"You should be yourself."

Kamon slumped his shoulders. "Then it'll never work.", he grunted.

Henry slapped him encouragingly on the shoulder. "Oh, nonsense. Even Mike found someone.", he winked at Kamon.

"But Mike is-" he interrupted himself.

"Mike is what?"

Kamon wrestled with himself. "Mike is popular. And... He's big and strong and I'm-" he raised his arms powerlessly. "I'm just like that."

Henry sighed. "Kamon you're thirteen. There are boys who grow until they're seventeen. You've still got time. And as for muscles. Not everyone is into that either." He grinned. "(Y/n) likes it more when her partner is slimmer. She picked me anyway."

Kamon continued to throw the ball listlessly. "What if I make a complete ass of myself?"

"It's okay to be scared. They're women. They can be very intimidating. Who are we talking about, anyway?"

Kamon faltered. "Um-"

"Come on." grinned Henry, giving him a buddy-buddy punch.

Kamon dropped his chin to his knees and looked out into the garden. "Alex." he said so quickly that Henry almost didn't understand.

"Alex?" He considered. "So what?"

"Alex... Smith." he mumbled very quietly into his knees.

Alex Smith... Smith... Henry's eyes grew wide. Oh. Alex Smith. The little soccer player from his class. The boy Alex Smith.

He saw tears forming in Kamon's eyes.

"Kamon! No! Don't cry. It's okay!"

"It is?"

"Yes Kamon!"

"You don't mind?"

Henry took him in his arms. "Of course not."

He stroked his back. "We all love you. No matter who you bring home."

Kamon sniffled into his shoulder. "How do you tell (y/n) something like that?" he asked into his T-shirt.

Henry smiled. "Well one would take me with them and then you make (y/n) a really big cup of coffee and then.... you just tell her. Because (y/n) loves you all." He grinned. "And since you are the least amount of chaos, you are her little secret favorite." He winked at Kamon. The latter smiled at Henry out of teary eyes.

"Will you help me?"

"Always. No matter what."