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astrojoong · 4 years ago

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Hongjoong - Migraine Comfort

Hongjoong x Reader

Genre: Comfort, Fluff

Length: Bullet Pointed, sort of a Reaction

Warnings: Mentions of pain? nausea?

AN: okay so this was originally going to be a full blown drabble, BUT I am very depressed and can’t seem to complete it, so I think I’m going to be posting them as bullet points/reactions for rn and then I’ll plan on fleshing them out and probably posting them to ao3. I say them bc this is part of a bunch of comfort fics that I’m writing, one prompt per member, one fic for each member! anyways lmk what ya’ll think!

Ok so you and Joong have been dating for a while

They very recently ended promotions for a comeback and were BEAT

so when Joong texted you letting you know that they had their first free day in a while you were Excited to say the least

Work had been rough the past week and you really missed Joong during promotions

and to a lesser extent, the boys

you arrive like a bit past one, just like you said you would, and were disappointed but not surprised, to find that half of the members were still asleep

At least Joong was up, that's all you could ask for tbh

Because you missed the boys as well as Your Boy, you and the awake members (read: Hwa, Yeo, and Jongho) decide to watch a movie together.

You all settle in the living room, getting all comfy and cuddly to watch a movie together

It starts off calm.

but

BUT

it is Ateez

even when the other members start to make their way into the living room around the end of the first movie and the start of the second, it doesn’t get crazy YET

but it was only a matter of time

you think it started with Wooyoung’s questions and commentary during the start of the second movie, but its hard to say how exactly you got to this point

u and joong are still on the couch, u leaning against him with his arms around your shoulder, holding you to him while he rests his chin gently on your head

yeo is on the other end of the couch and all three of you are watch the Shit Show go down

The innocent act of eating popcorn while watching a movie has devolved into a full blown battle of spitting kernels and flicking popcorn at one another

Its woosan on one side, yungi on the other

Seonghwa was in the middle, acting as both a shield and a target as he attempted to get the boys to ceasefire in the hopes of mitigating an already disastrous mess

jongho had abandoned the chaos in favor of napping in his room now that it was free of any distractions

as amusing as all this was, you were a little distracted.

you were getting a headache

well, at this point, you HAD a headache

you weren’t sure when exactly it had started but at this point you Certainly felt it

you hadn’t been too concerned, thinking it was probably just a tension headache since you had been all tensed up for the past month due to work

but now

now you were feeling nauseous

which is a Bad sign

as nonchalantly as you can, you extract yourself from joong shooting him an apologetic look and make ur way to the bathroom

the farther u got from the cacophony, the less nauseous you became

which gave u a Theory

a theory that you tested when you entered the restroom and didn't turn on the light

just as you suspected

your headache ebbed just a touch and the nausea lessened

it was a migraine

you had a little experience with migraines before, you knew yours didn’t present with an aura so you never got a warning before one hit

you were thankful to have gotten yourself to a dark, quiet room before it hit full stride, which it was doing right now

all you could really do was curl up in a ball on the cool tiles and softly groan in pain

which is exactly how joong found you

when you had gotten up originally he noticed you seemed a little off but decided to say nothing and planning on seeing how you looked when you returned, maybe checking in then

after a couple minutes you could hear your phone chime, recognizing Hongjoong’s assigned text tone, but you were in far too much pain to do anything

plus you knew how painful the light from your phone would be

so after a few more minutes, with his text remaining unseen, he came to check up on you himself

he knocks on the door and all you can really do is moan pitifully in response

which does NOT comfort the poor boy

he was already worried before but now you sound like you’re in pain

when he opens the door you wince and retract from the light and now the faint sound of the rest of the boys’ distant antics

noticing your reaction, he crouches down to softly push some of your hair out of your face and stroke it lovingly

his voice gets really soft and he asks what's wrong

you explain the best you can which is really just whimpering the word migraine at him

he sighs and gives your head a few gentle pats before saying “wait here” in the same, soft tone, and standing up

he gently closes the door behind him

through the door you can hear him use his “Leader Voice” as he speaks to the members

you aren’t really aware enough to catch any specific words, all u know is that you’re for sure glad that the noise had died down a considerable amount

some time later

it could’ve been anywhere from 3 to 10 minutes, you aren’t really in a place to note the passage of time, joong returns.

as he slowly opens the door, you brace yourself, but it doesn’t hurt like it had before

he had the lights in the hall way turned off

joong helps you up off of the floor and guides you toward him and hwa’s shared room

there he has the lights off and the curtains drawn

on his bedside table there are two icepacks, a glass of water and a bottle of over the counter pain meds waiting for you

he helps you sit down and hands you the water and deposits two pills into your palm

you were getting ready to settle down when you heard wooyoung’s voice cut through the silence, yelling about something that mingi had done

you wince and the gentle expression falls from joongs face, morphing into “Leader Mode” as he quickly but quietly left the room to scold Wooyoung, but not before placing a gentle peck on your temple before disappearing

He returns with a remorseful looking woo who softly apologizes from the door, you silently wave off his apology and in return shoot him a finger heart with as much playful energy as you can muster

he returns the gesture as Joong turns back from talking to Seonghwa, who also apparently had followed him back.

you shoot hongjoong the best questioning look you can and he whispers back that Hwa will be making sure the rest of the boys keep the dorm quiet until you feel better

he tucks you into bed, placing ice packs on your forehead and neck respectively

he pulls up a chair next to his bed and softly strokes your hair and whispers soothing words to you until you are finally able to fall asleep

ok tbh this is my first time ever writing so like... hopefully it wasn’t Total Shit, im not Super happy w it but we all have to start somewhere so whatever. also! hopefully this is a somewhat accurate description of a migraine! I’ve only had about four in my life and they were all essentially the same as what the reader has. So I have limited experience and research to go off of but hopefully it was sufficient enough. Anyways pls let me know what you thought, or if you have a request (no promises tho lmao) or ideas. I’m pretty much open to anything.

thank you for reading!!

#hongjoong fluff #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #ateez x gender neutral reader #hongjoong x gender neutral reader #ateez x gn reader #hongjoong x gn reader #ateez x gn!reader #hongjoong x gn!reader #hongjoong comfort #ateez comfort #ateez reactions #hongjoong reaction #im tagging it reaction bc it fits that category #at least better than a drabble i think #hongjoong migraine #i am Soft and would like a pretty boy to take care of me #is that so much to ask

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boywivlove · 4 years ago

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| Title | Lost My Way |

| Pairing | Min Yoongi x Reader

| Word Count | 1K

| Genre | Pianist AU, fluff, slight romantic moments, slight angst

| Summary | Min Yoongi was a rising prodigy in the pursuit of his career as a musician, but after a car accident his hands are left with severe injuries. It takes years for him to find his way again, and he will never give up his dream, no matter what life throws at him.

| Warnings | descriptions of accidents and injuries.

| AN | My second drabble for the `BTS Bingo Collaboration` with `ficswithluv` and I’m really glad to get this out!! Im going to be posting a lot more drabbles in the weeks to come !

----- “Even if Im slow, I will walk with my own feet Because I know this path is mine to take. Even if I go back, I will reach this path Eventually I will never I will never lose my dream” ----

If you asked Min Yoongi before graduation, where he thought he would be in two years, it wouldn't be here. He would have answered that he would have liked to be training with the Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra, having been offered a place with them straight after graduation. He never could have guessed he would be sitting in a physiotherapy clinic , his hands barely able to hold a pen, all because of a head on collision with a drunk driver. But fate has a weird way of messing with people's lives, doesn't it?

He hadn't always liked piano, in fact, up until he was 15, he had never touched a key. Yoongi had grown up streetwise, not classically trained. But during a summer school program, he thought what the hell and took it as an elective. It was either that or track… no thanks. Yoongi was quick to learn how to play, his teacher noting that he was the quickest student to learn the ins and outs of playing. After he had been given the confidence to play, he had started to pride himself on his dedication to his skills, and to have it taken away from him because of one stupid, selfish ass hole… it burned him. It made him angry. He was supposed to make something of his life, to be recognised for his skill and get off the streets.

The crash happened one night in June, he had stayed late to practice for his upcoming exam. The driver sped right through a red light, and right into the front of Yoongi's car, he couldn't remember exactly how he got to the hospital, but they said he was lucky to be alive, his head had been split open upon impact, his face and body had been scraped by the glass from the windshield. But the injury that he felt the most were his hands, severely impacted by nerve damage, when he first woke up he had thought they had been amputated, not being able to feel them at all. The doctors had said there was a 40% chance he would be able to control them again, but it wasn't 100%. And to Yoongi, that wasn't enough.

“How are you feeling Yoongi?” He didn't look up to address you, but he nodded his head in acknowledgement. You were the newest in a string of physiotherapists assigned to help Yoongi try and work through his injuries. The others Yoongi had driven away from his outbursts of anger. You were younger than the others, only a year or so older than him, and he had to admit you were pretty to look at. And you hadn't asked for a replacement therapist for him yet, it had been 6 months and you still stayed with him. Yoongi was grateful, even if he had a hard time showing it.

It wasn't that Yoongi didn't want to get better, he wanted nothing more than to be able to use his hands again, but at the same time, he was tired of trying and getting nowhere. He was angry.

He hated that what happened happened to him, after he had worked too hard to get to where he was. He would never, ever get an opportunity like that again, it wasn't just his slot in the symphony and his ability to play he lost, his friends, he had eventually pushed them away one by one. He couldn't stand the sympathetic way they spoke to him, giving him advice they found on google on how he could get his hands back to the way they were. What the fuck would they know about anything. The only person he seemed to open up with was you, you didn't push him, but you did challenge him to do the exercises.

The therapy was slow, infuriatingly so. It was like no matter what he did or how much he tried, he was incapable of the simplest of things. His writing looked like chicken scratch, he would barely grip onto anything without dropping it, even getting dressed took twice as long and made his hands ache,

“You've made some great progress in the last year, I know it's not as much as you want it to be, but progress is progress.”

It was a slow process, painstakingly slow. But after months of you challenging Yoongi with the physiotherapy, Yoongi could finally see some progress. He could write his name in a somewhat presentable way, he could fully grasp anything without it aching, but he would hold things slightly. It even hurt less to button up his shirt in the morning. You were so proud of Yoongi for sticking at it and trying as much as he can muster. The whole reason you took this job was to help people get their lives back on track, and to see Yoongi smile when he was able to do something with his hands made it all worth it.

You had decided to pay Yoongi a visit today instead of being cooped up in the clinic for hours, there was no reason you couldn't do his exercises at home afteral. Yoongi had given you a spare key to let yourself in, and had told you the flat number that was his. You had brought him some lunch from a bakery you remember him saying was his favourite place to go after practice.

Fiddling with the key in the lock you made your way inside and set the lunch on the kitchen table. You heard a soft off key melody being played in the next room, re must have not heard you enter. Making your way slowly to the door, you spot him sitting at his piano, his hands tentatively playing the keys. You could see the concentration that was etched onto his features, and the shaking of his hands. It was a serene moment that you loved to see with him, but it was cut short when you heard another off key moment, and his hands slammed into the keys, causing him to cry out. You rushed over to where he was in an instant, afraid he had hurt himself, he seemed to only then notice you as he let you inspect his shaking hands.

“You know better Yoongi, no straining your muscles!” You look over his hands, gently turning them over in your own.

“Whats the point of trying to get better if Im NOT getting better, what the fuck am I suposed to do! I'm no closer than I was when all this shit first happened!”

Your heart went out to him, it really did. You knew Yoongi's background from your little conversations during your sessions. You knew where he'd come from and how hard he'd trained and worked for this chance.

“That's not true, you've made great progress, a year ago you couldn't even pick up a pen, let alone play the piano like you just did . Yoongi I know it's hard, but a big part of recovery is the patience and time you put into it. It's not an overnight thing. You know that..”

He said nothing, just breathing through the numb feeling he now felt in his hands. He nodded slowly and looked up at you, your hands still holding his own.

“What if it never goes away… Y/N what if everything I've worked for can never come true, and I'm stuck with a bunch of what ifs for the rest of my life….”

“Is that what you're most afraid of?”

He nodded, his shoulders shaking slightly. “I've worked so hard… I've put so much energy into this, I can't imagine doing anything else…”

“Yoongi, I know you can do this, you just need to give it time. And I know you're gonna get back on your feet, and you're gonna get over this… you've just got to give it time.”

He was nervous. He was so fucking nervous. It had taken him years after the accident to get here. Watching just off the stage as the audition before he finished up, he was good, his melodies were flawless. Yoongi had to commend him on his steady hand. Looking at his own, he was full of doubt. He wasn't sure he would be good enough to do this audition.

He walks out in a daze. The nape of his neck started to feel hot. He introduces himself, and he takes his place on the bench. He swallows, and looks out to the crowd. It was then he saw you enter quietly, taking a seat in the empty isle. You came. He suddenly thought of everything you'd said to him through his recovery, the promises of staying by his side, the encouraging smiles when he started practising again. Even when his sessions were over, you still stayed in touch with him and encouraged him even more. It wasn't until the judges panel motioned for him to start that he gave his hands a small squeeze.

Life hasn't been easy for him recently. Everything had changed for him. It was a slow process. But he's here, he made it.

One step forward, two steps back. He'd never lost his ambition, it was just buried under fear and doubt. But now, he was ready to reach his dreams, and he had you as his light in dark times to guide him.

#ficswithluv #fwlbingo2020 #bulletproof bingo #btsbookclub #armysource #hyunglinenetwork #bangtanscenery #bangtanarmynet #min yoongi #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi drabble #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts imagine #bts #min yoongi au

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dolly-face03 · 5 years ago

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Christmas Greetings (Oswald x reader) Pt. 2

Hi!! Can I please request a part two to “Christmas Greetings?” (If you don’t do part twos it’s okay!) Where it picks up right when Oswald was going to confess his feelings to Y/n (Jim’s sister) and she of course happily returns the same feelings + they have a cute date at his nightclub (he closed it for just the two of them) and he teaches her how to play the piano, holding her hands while guiding her fingers to play the song + they share a loving kiss + Oswald being a gentleman & protective.

Jim hadn’t been the one for talking to you for the past few days, not after he found his sister cuddling with Mayor Oswald Cobblepot. You just couldn’t help it, and eventually you lashed out at Jim,

“Y/N you can’t be serious, this is Oswald Cobblepot, he can’t protect you! I don’t know what you think will happen by this but I promise that it won’t be anything good!”

Your face turned red and your hands trembled, you’ve never been this angry with Jim, not even when you were children, “Listen to me, I’ve lived in Gotham all of my life, just like you have, and I’ve never felt safer with someone. He’s that pillar of light that reminds me that not everything sucks, and that one day things will get better now matter how dark your life is. Why can’t you see that?”

His glare softened, he’s seen you angry, he’s seen you upset, sure, but he’s never seen this emotion come out of you.

“Im sorry Y/N, if he makes you happy and makes you feel safe then so be it. But don’t come crying to me because all I’m going to say is I told you so,”

He put on his jacket and ran a hand through his hair before walking out of the apartment building. The cold air rushed in and seemed to suck out every last part of the preserved warm air. The door shut quietly, and you stood there, sighing to yourself about the occurred events and went to go put on the rest of your outfit. After all, you weren’t going to allow a bicker with your brother to ruin your time with Oswald.

The air brushed against your cheeks as you walked down the sidewalk to Oswalds nightclub, you hadn’t been there before but you were surely interested. You had heard, however, that it was really hard to get into, but you figured that Oswald had already given his heads up so you wouldn’t have to worry about that so much.

A smile bloomed across your face when you heard the music coming from outside the small building, you loved seeing all of the people and more importantly you loved the inside. Sitting on top of the stage was Cobblepot himself, playing the piano and singing a song in Italian, something that his mother must have taught him before she had passed.

You waited for a moment, his eyes meeting yours as he hit the last chord on the piano before bowing and walking off of the stage.

“Miss Y/N, it’s great to see you!” He greets you with a hug and a small peck on the cheek,

“Oswald that performance was amazing!” You truly were astounded by the vibrato in his voice and the way that his hands seemed to glide across the keys, “Everything that I know I owe to Mother,” His voice had a hint of sadness before it was quickly whisked away by his emotion.

“Why don’t you stay later? I could teach you how to play and maybe one day you’ll be able to perform yourself!”

You thought this through for a moment, spending the night with Oswald sounded amazing, but on the other hand you knew that he wasn’t kidding when he talked about you performing on stage. ‘Whatever,’ you decided ‘it’s worth it,’

The rest of the night was spend sharing martinis and dancing, you quickly learned that the only way that he would dance would be in a slow dance, and honestly you were completely fine with that. You couldn’t help but observe the way that his gelled hair glinted in the dim lights, or the way that his feet seemed to have a rhythmic tap to the beat as his danced, and most importantly how graceful he was when he danced compared to his walk.

Soon, all of the dancers were gone and the bar tender finished cleaning up his work space before saying a quick good bye.

“Come here,” Oswald said, in a soothing but demanding voice.

“Okay,” you said quietly, already feeling your cheeks heat up at the thought of even the most innocent of actions.

You say beside him on the piano, listening to him play something different this time. The music almost seemed to woe you and you felt yourself becoming lighter with the apprehension on sleep. Your head lay on Oswald shoulder as you listened to the ringing notes, you wished you could stay like this forever. The song eventually ended and you were left dissatisfied.

“Hey don’t scowl like that I know plenty more!” You hadn’t realized that you had been frowning, so you gave an apprehensive smile before focusigg big your attention on the piano, “give me your hands,” he said in the most gentle voice he could muster. You laid your hands on top of his and soon the piano started playing again. This time you didn’t just feel the notes in your heart but in your finger tips too, suddenly you weren’t tired anymore and you felt like you could burst with energy. The song ended with a low finish, but at least you were satisfied by it this time.

He stared into you eyes for a while before he had the courage that he would muster up again. After all, you were his now, there was no reason that he should still be shy. You wanted him to know this. And he soon found out by the gentle kiss that was pressed against your lips, the warm sensation made your skin tingle, when you parted only one phrase would be said before you held eachother in an embrace for the rest of the night,

“ I love you y/n”

I loved writing this, I hope you like it!! @kpopgirlbtssvt

#oswald cobblepot imagine #oswald cobblepot fluff #oswald x reader #gotham #ed nygma x reader #ed nygma #jim gordon

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johnnysnostril · 5 years ago

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Without You

chapter seven

taeyong’s pov

waking up, i sighed and looked at the ceiling. i was really losing all inspiration to everything. i didn't wanna write anymore. i barely wanted to be in the studio- just because alonna was always there.

it was just annoying at this point.

i knew we had nothing scheduled today- so i was purposely going to stay out of the way of everyone.

finally mustering up the energy to get out of bed, i dragged myself to the shower and washed up.

taeyong’s outfit:

i snatched my room key off the side table then made my way out to the elevator.

*ping*

i reached down into my pocket and looked at my phone, pressing the button for the elevator.

johnny

i sighed and opened his message.

“anything planned this morning?”

i fixed my hat on my head, riding the elevator to the lobby.

“meeting with malcolm..”

i replied.

i locked my phone, shoving it back in my pocket- exchanging it for the rental car keys.

at the studio

i swung the door open, revealing Malcolm. he had a female sitting on his lap, bobbing his head to the music.

i slammed the door shut and he looked in my direction.

“taeyong. my main man.” he laughed. “what’s up, kid?”

i sat myself down in one of the chairs, ignoring his question.

he instantly stopped the music.

“looks like someone had a bad night.” Malcolm lifting the girl off his lap and she walked out.

he spun his chair side to side, keeping eye contact with me.

“you know, you almost blew marteen for us.”

i shrugged.

“you don’t give a shit?” he crossed his arms against his chest and laughed.

“listen, i don’t have time for your bullshit games, kids. you’re either in this or you’re out. i don’t have to spend all this money, just to get you good features.”

Malcolm threw his hands in the air.

“there are TONS, and i mean tons, of talented men who would love to have your spot.”

i dusted my ear off like what he said wasn’t getting to me.

but it really was.

no one understood me.

“whatever man..” i mumbled.

Malcolm sighed.

“get in the booth.” he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs.

he was tired of my shit.

i laughed and shook my head.

“nah. im good.” i waved him off.

“get your ass in that booth, now.”

Malcolm and i made eye contact.

he was serious. i’ve never seen that look in his eyes before.

i rolled my eyes, lifting myself off my chair and walking into the booth. i threw the headphones on and waited for direction.

i watched Malcolm closely as he pressed the red button.

“you need to let go of that anger.” he said calmly.

i furrowed my brows.

“im not angry.” i lied.

“could’ve fooled me.” he chuckled.

“listen to this beat- tell me what you think.”

Malcolm played what he was bobbing his head to, when i walked in.

i thought for a moment, listening to the bass.

suddenly, a fire ignited inside me.

youtube

ivy’s pov

i rolled over in bed, trying to slap the alarm clock out of habit- accidentally falling out off the mattress.

i groaned as my body hit the floor.

this was definitely going to be a tough morning.

i pushed myself off the ground and looked around. this wasn't my room.

i furrowed my brows and quickly remembered that this was mark’s hotel room.

i gasped and covered my mouth as his clothes were laid out on the floor.

oh my god.. did we?

“are you okay?”

i looked up, and there stood mark- with a towel around his waist. he had just got out of the shower and ran out of the bathroom to check on me.

i was silent.

my eyes wondered his body.

“ivy..” he called out for me.

i instantly shut my mouth and stood up, hugging myself.

“y-yeah.. i’m fine.. did we-” i said pointing at this clothes.

mark laughed.

“we didn’t.” he reassure me.

“oh! thank god!” i said running my hands through my hair, relieved.

mark huffed and slowly ran his hand down his stomach.

“damn. i didn’t think i was that ugly.” he laughed.

i quickly shook my head and lifted my hands.

“no, i didn’t mean it like that. honestly- i didn’t mean-”

mark held his hand up and walked over to the window.

“it’s cool.” he said in a hurt tone.

it was almost like i couldn’t breathe. i didn’t even know what to say to that.

*ding.dong*

mark didn’t move. he just stared out the window.

“i’ll get it..” i mumbled.

walking over to the door, i felt like i was disappearing with each step i took. as i swung the door open, there stood johnny.

he looked down at me and pressed his lips in a line. i wanted to say hi, but my lips didn’t move.

johnny looked behind me, noticing mark. i watched as the muscles in his jaw started to show. he was clearly upset.

“oh hey, man.” mark chuckled as he hurried to wrap his arm around my shoulder.

johnny was quiet.

“i should go.” i whispered.

i quickly removed mark’s arm, grabbing my belongings and johnny’s clothes- giving them back to him.

“thank you...” i mumbled.

my throat was so dry, i thought i was going to throw up.

johnny still didn’t say anything.

i slowly slipped past him in the door way and rushed for the elevator.

jaehyun’s pov

cracking the egg on the side of the counter, i whistled. alonna was still asleep, in my bed.

we had a great night, needless to say.

suddenly there was a knock at the door.

“did you forget your key, you idiot?” i laughed, yelling at johnny through the door.

i pulled the door back, revealing ivy.

“oh shit- i’m sorry ivy. i thought you were johnny.” i said rubbing the back of my neck.

“you okay?” i asked, letting her in.

she looked so distraught.

ivy simply nodded her head then began to search for her purse.

i opened the small closet beside the restroom.

“it’s in here.” i said grabbing her purse for her.

“thank you..” she mumbled in a low tone.

“alonna?”

“she’s still sleeping. i can wake her if you’d like.”

she shook her head frantically.

“just tell her to meet me at home later. i’m late for work..”

with that, ivy rushed out the door.

ivy’s pov

rushing home, i quickly showered and dressed for work.

ivy’s outfit:

running down the sidewalk, i glanced down at my watch. two minutes to spare.

i smiled as i quickly grabbed my keys out of the side pocket of my backpack.

for some reason, as i entered the flower shop- i felt more at home. like i could actually breathe for a second.

i set my stuff down behind the counter and tied my apron around my waist.

a few moments later, Mr. Suh walked in from the back.

“my ivy.” he smiled widely and greeted me.

“good morning, mr. suh. how was your weekend?” i asked giving him a hug.

“it was great. i need you to meet my son.” he stated immediately.

i laughed at his statement.

“you can always bring him to the shop.” i said smiling through my words.

“that’s actually a really good idea.” he patted my shoulder excitedly. “i’m having breakfast with him a in little. maybe, i’ll have him swing by.”

mr. suh patted my cheek, heading to the back once again.

alonna’s pov

i sat up and looked around the room, clutching onto the sheets- hiding my chest.

i quickly grabbed my panties off the floor, along with jae’s hoodie and headed downstairs.

i smiled as he sat at the table, drinking a cup of coffee- reading a magazine.

i took in the scene, biting my lip.

jae looked up from his reading.

“good morning, beautiful.” he flashed his white teeth.

i slightly blushed and walked over to him. he pulled me onto his lap and hugged my waist.

“i made you breakfast.” he said picking up a piece of bacon and placing it to my lips.

i giggled and opened my mouth, taking a bite and chewing.

“there’s no way you cooked this.” i laughed.

jaehyun kissed my shoulder and chuckled.

“excuse me. i’m a great cook.” he said slapping my butt.

i whined and turned to straddle him. he gently held my waist and looked up at me, biting his bottom lip.

i leaned down and kissed him softly, wrapping my arms around his neck. he smiled against my lips, pulling me closer into his chest.

slowly pulling away, i rested my forehead against his.

“you were amazing last night..” he mumbled as his eyes were still closed.

i planted an innocent kiss on his nose and pulled back.

“i tried to tell you.” i smirked.

jae lifted his eyebrow, opening his eyes once again and tilted his head slightly.

“don’t get cocky.” he glanced down at my lips.

we stared at each other for a moment- feeling the tension in the room.

it was like we could read each others minds. our emotions were in the air and we both didn’t mind.

taking his hand, i slipped his index finger in my mouth- swirling my tongue around it.

he watched me closely, with lust in his eyes.

as i blinked, he wrapped his arm around my waist tightly- standing up and bringing me with him, in one motion.

he spun me around, bending me over and pressing my stomach into the table- ripping my panties off once again.

johnny’s pov

last night, i slept on taeil’s couch.

i groaned from the pounding coming from my head.

“johnny hyung?” haechan called out for me.

“what?” i said rubbing my head.

i cracked my back and neck- slowly standing up.

“good morning.” he chuckled. “let’s play the game.”

haechan climbed out of bed, careful not to wake taeil and sat in front of the tv.

i shook my head.

“i’m having breakfast with my dad this morning. maybe later.”

he looked disappointed.

i sighed and grabbed him, pulling him into a hug.

“later. i promise.”

walking out of their room, i made my way to my own room.

slipping the key in, i heard moaning coming from inside.

“jae!” i shouted as i quickly opened the door.

alonna squealed, immediately covering herself with jaehyun’s hoodie.

i shook my head, slamming the door and heading upstairs.

i quickly rallied some clothes together, throwing them on and grabbing my keys.

running down the stairs, i kept my eyes glued to the gps on my phone.

“johnny.” jae called out.

i sighed and looked over at him.

“don’t say anything...” he pleaded.

i shrugged and waved him off.

“i don’t give a fuck what you do. its not my business. i’ll be back later.”

at breakfast

pulling up to the restaurant, i smiled- seeing my mom and dad.

walking up to the table, my mom smiled up from her menu and stood- pulling me into a hug.

“oh, my johnny.” she said squeezing me tight.

i missed her.

my dad quickly interrupted and patted my back.

“how much did you have to drink?” he laughed.

“is it that bad?” i chuckled.

we all sat down and looked at the menu.

“son-” my dad started. “there’s someone i’d like you to meet.” he smiled.

i shook my head.

“dad, please no.” i held up my hand.

“you’ll really like her.” mom said smiling, reaching over the table to pat my hand.

i sighed and looked over to the side.

this was their thing.

every time i came in town, they would always try and set me up on these blind dates.

“i don’t want to go on another blind date.” taking out my sunglasses, i slid them on my face and ran my fingers through my hair.

“at least just stop by the shop and say hello. she’s a quiet girl and i don’t think she has any friends.” he began. “she’s also very beautiful.”

“we’re just trying to help you son. i want grand-kids.” my mom admitted.

“mom!” i laughed. “i’m not ready to have kids yet.”

“johnny, come meet her please.”

i rolled my eyes and slapped my menu on the table.

“fine. but this is the last time i’m going to entertain this idea of yours, dad.” i chuckled.

jaehyun’s pov

getting out of the shower, i heard my phone ping with a notification. alonna was passed out on the bed, just like i left her.

i smirked before leaning down and kissing her head.

grabbing my phone, i seen it was a message from johnny.

“hey bro. party at my parents house tonight. welcome party i guess? idk. tell everyone to come. but, swing by my dad’s shop at 5pm- he wants me to meet some chick and i’ll need a wingman if she’s got a cute friend ;)”

i snickered at his message, replying back.

“what about ivy?”

as soon as i sent it, he read it.

“pretty sure she had sex with mark last night. im good.”

“fuck.” i said out loud.

alonna groaned.

“why are you yelling?” she whined.

i smiled and hovered over her with my wet body.

“i didn’t mean to wake you, baby.” i kissed her lips then playfully shook my hair in her face.

“jung jaehyun!” her eye shot open and she began slapping my chest, laughing.

“johnny’s having a party tonight? wanna be my plus one?” i said wiggling my eyebrows.

“is taeyong going?” she asked pushing me off and fixing her hair.

i rolled my eyes and sighed.

“does it matter?”

alonna huffed, getting out of bed and dressing herself.

“yes. because i can’t be all over you in front of him- and everyone else.”

she was getting frustrated.

so was i.

“at least come with me to his dad’s shop. he said there’s some chick he’s meeting.”

her eyes shot my way.

“i thought he was interested in ivy.”

i smiled as i watched her wiggle into her pants.

“that’s a story i’ll have to tell on the way.”

ivy’s pov

the day was flying by. it was already 4pm. Mr. Suh had called the shop, asking me to close down early. i was totally okay with that, since i just wanted to go home and sleep anyway.

i pulled out my phone. still nothing from alonna.

i hadn’t heard from her all day and i was starting to get worried.

looking around the shop, i decided to start cleaning up to pass time.

5pm finally hit and i dropped my apron fast. swinging my backpack on my shoulder.

like clock work, mr. suh walked in.

“where’s my ivy?!” he called out.

i could tell he was smiling by the tone of his voice.

as i turned around to greet him, i nearly stopped breathing.

“ivy, sweetie. i’d like you to meet my son. johnny.”

mr. suh smiled and pushed johnny in front of him.

we were both still.

the shop was quiet. all you could hear was the clock ticking.

johnny suddenly laughed, wagging his finger in the air. he glanced around the shop then back at me.

“i knew that i’ve seen you somewhere before.” he slid his hands in his pockets, tilting his head.

“you guys know each other?” mrs. suh asked.

“i actually have no idea who she is.” johnny lied coldly.

i clutched onto my bag, feeling my body go numb.

suddenly the front door swung open.

we all looked towards the doorway.

there stood alonna and jaehyun.

hand in hand.

“ivy?” jaehyun called out for me, confused.

“ivy, what are you doing here?” my sister asked.

i ignored her question, looking over at johnny.

there was clearly hurt in his eyes for some reason.

i really didn’t do anything though.

“i’m out of here.” he mumbled as he rolled his eyes.

#Johnny Fanfic #johnny suh #johnny nct fanfic #nct johnny #nct scenarios #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct imagines

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nastybuckybarnes · 6 years ago

Text

Out of the Shadows

Pairing: Peter x Reader, Platonic!Loki x Reader

Summary: After finding out that you feel like a complete outcast, the team tries hard, too hard, to include you. And when a mission comes up, well, their efforts lead to disaster.

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Angst, Injuries, Violence, Fluff

Word Count: 1.6K

A/n: Um, hi. Idk what Im doing anymore. It seems like everything I write just ends up flopping so idk what to do.

PART ONE MASTERLIST

“Can I help you with anything? Do you need anything? A-are you comfortable?” You groan and put your face in your hands.

“Listen, Holly, I get it that you're trying to... make up for whatever Loki put in your head, but please stop hovering. I need some space so I can work and focus on what I’m doing. We have a mission coming up and I want to be as prepared as possible, okay?”

Your sister nods and looks away, “I just... I never knew you felt... so excluded. I never intended to make you feel like that.” You look up from the file in your hands and smile lightly. “I know. And I’m fine. I promise.” She sighs, knowing you’re lying, but drops it.

“I’m gonna go train with Nat. Feel free to join if you want.” Right as she leaves, someone else walks in.

“Hey (Y/n).” You smile at the voice, warmth filling you. “Hi, Peter. I’ve missed you.” He walks to your bed and leans down, hugging you tightly.

“I’ve missed you too. Are you ready for the mission tomorrow? Stocking up on carbs tonight? Its kinda like going to a basketball game o-or track-and-field. You’ve gotta have energy for tomorrow. Especially if you’re gonna be throwing things with your mind and-” you silence his jabbering with a gentle kiss.

He sits down beside you, his hands hesitantly wrapping around your body to pull you closer to him.

You push him down onto his back, the file for the mission long forgotten, and straddle his waist. He grabs your hips and squeezes tightly. Through his actions, you can almost feel the anxiety he feels about you going on this mission.

You pull your lips from his and pant softly, holding his cheeks and pressing your forehead to his. “I’ll be safe, Peter. I promise.” He kisses your lips again then sighs, “I know, but I’ll still worry about you. You... I... I think that you’ve made my life so much better. And I really don’t wanna lose you.” You smile and open your eyes, looking up into his deep beautiful brown orbs.

“You mean the world to me, Peter. Without you... I’m not sure what I’d do. I’m so glad that I have you.” He kisses your lips a third time then leans his head down on the pillow.

You lie down on his body, legs tangled with his and head on his chest. He traces light patterns on your back and you exhale deeply, relaxing into your boyfriend.

~*~

“Shit! Nat! Help!” Your sister’s voice calls through the comms.

Your blood runs cold at her cry of pain and for a moment you see red. Moving with speed and determination that you didn't know you possessed, you tear through the HYDRA agents on the outside of the building, quickly getting inside the base and running to the room where your sister and Nat are supposed to be gathering intel.

Holly’s on the ground, a HYDRA agent holding her throat.

You muster up your powers and launch the man off of her, running to her side and helping her to stand. “Okay ladies, I’ve got the hard drive. Let’s get the Hell out of here before someone gets seriously hurt.”

You and Holly follow after Nat towards the door, each of you with a weapon raised.

A small round ball-like thing rolls into the room and you gasp, eyebrows raising to your hairline.

“Get back!” You yell, twisting your arms in a circle and creating a shield just as the grenade explodes.

You get thrown across the room and hit the wall hard enough for all of the other people in the room to hear the cracks of your bones.

“(Y/n)!” Holly cries, running towards you while Nat takes care of the HYDRA agents.

“What happened?” Steve’s voice asks in her ear.

“We need an evac. Now,” Nat’s voice says. Holly grabs your cheeks and sniffles, pleading softly for you to open your eyes. Her fingers find your neck and she feels for a pulse, a sob bursting out of her as she feels nothing.

“Nat! There’s no pulse! W-what do I do?!” The redhead appears next to your sister and takes a deep breath. “I need all the help I can get, guys. Starting compressions.” Nat starts pumping her hands on your chest, trying to get your heart beating again.

Holly sits beside you, one of your hands cradled in both of hers.

“Please (Y/n). I’m so sorry for not being there. I’m so so sorry. Please wake up. Please. Please wake up.”

It takes hardly a minute for Tony to meet them in the room, tears in his eyes as he sees your lifeless form on the ground, Natasha still doing compressions. “Get her to the Quinjet. Get FRIDAY to do something to save her!” Holly almost yells.

“I can give her a shock, Boss. 200 joules should do it.” Tony looks at his hands then nods.

“Charge ‘em up FRIDAY.”

He kneels in front of your body and, after FRIDAY giving him a quick tutorial, presses his makeshift defibrillators to your chest. Your body jolts with the contact and Holly sobs.

“Read vitals,” Tony whispers.

FRIDAY takes a moment but eventually responds.

“Heartbeat detected.”

He lets out a sigh of relief then carefully scoops your body up in his arms, flying you to the Quinjet. As you lie helpless and vulnerable in his arms, he realizes just how important you are to him and everyone else on the team.

~*~

You wake up to a soft voice whispering near your ear.

It takes you a few minutes, but you eventually manage to figure out how to work your body again.

“...and I swear I’ll never let you go. You died out there and I thought I was going to die when they told me. I can't live without you cause you mean too much to me. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe cause I love you. They don’t really want me in here, I should be training, but there’s no way I’m leaving you until you wake up. So please (Y/n), open those pretty eyes for me. Please wake up. Please.”

It takes a lot more energy than you expected, but you manage to pull your eyelids back a tiny bit, squinting against the harsh lights in the room.

“Peter?” Your voice is scratchy and hoarse and sounds absolutely awful.

“Oh my God, (Y/n)! You’re awake! I-I need to get the doctor! Or mister Stark.” He jumps up, freezing in his tracks as you squeeze his hand. “Don't leave me, Peter. Please don’t leave me.” He hesitates for a moment then sits back down. “I really oughta tell someone that you’re awake. You might need painkillers or something.” Your eyes water and he’s quick to kiss away the tears. “But I won’t leave you, (Y/n). I promise I won’t.” You nod, wincing as your head throbs.

“FRIDAY? Can you please call Mister Stark and the Doctor? (Y/n)’s awake now,” Peter says. The AI agrees and in a few minutes, multiple people come barreling into your room.

“(Y/n). I’m glad to see that you’re awake and talking. You had us worried for a little while there,” The doctor says with a kind smile. You look up at her then over at your sister. “Did... did I actually die?” Tony and the Doctor sigh while your sister makes a noise of pain.

“Your heart stopped beating, yes. And if Mister Stark and Miss Romanoff hadn’t acted as fast as they did, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

You ponder this for a moment then look up at each person in the room.

“You... why?” Tony sits at the foot of your bed, Your sister and Natasha right behind him. “(Y/n), you sacrificed your life for the team. You gave your life for these two morons here. We... we might not be the best at showing it, but you mean an awful lot to us. We’d... we’d be lost without you. Your little snarky remarks whenever Cap says something you don’t like... the way you can always comfort anyone, no matter what. You’re loved and you’re needed. Don’t even get me started on how much the Spiderkid needs you. When he found out you were hurt he almost went crazy. He hasn’t left your side the whole week. Took a lot of convincing and Capsicle physically removing him from the room to get him to take a shower.”

“We love you, (Y/n). And I’m so so sorry that we ever made you feel like we don’t,” Nat says with a small smile. You nod, looking down for a moment. “I’m sure you’re feeling overwhelmed right now. We’ll give you some time. If you need anything at all, let us know, alright?” You nod at Tony and watch as him and Nat walk out.

“(Y/n)... you’ve been saving my life since we were kids. Thank you. I... I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you, but I’ll spend the rest of my damn life trying. I’ll be annoying and overbearing, as long as you know how much I love and appreciate you,” Holly whispers, gently patting your leg before getting up and leaving the room.

A dark-haired man enters the room after a moment, a small smile on his lips. “I’m glad to see that you’re alive and well, (Y/n). They haven’t stopped worrying about you ever since you were brought here. I don’t think you’re quite as forgotten as you’d like to think.” A few tears slide down your cheeks and you sniffle.

“Thank you, Loki. For always being there for me when I felt so alone. Thank you.” He dips his head in a mock bow then leaves the room, letting you sit in silence.

“I hope you know that no matter what you feel, I’ll always be here for you,” Peter says softly from beside you, his eyes cast down to where your hands are joined.

“Of course I do, Peter. I love you with my entire heart and I know you love me. I know that we’ll always have each other.”

He kisses your cheek gently then sighs.

“Always.”

~*~ crappy ending I know. Sorry.

TAGS:

PERMANENT TAGS: @smolbeanbucky @wildefire @inumorph @impalatobakerstreet @nanna022 @mummy-woves-you @m-a-t-91 @wtfholland @bookgirlunicorn @beautifulwisdom2001 @deep-sea-glitter @mrhiddles-81 @iamwarrenspeace @bitchacho25 @escapetheshackles @i-know-i-can @buckyssoul @avnngrs

MARVEL: @fallenangelfangirl @look-to-the-stars-and-wish @maladaptive-ninja-returns @cliffordasparagus @april-14-blog @potteritis

STUCK IN THE SHADOWS: @animegirlgeeky @drakesfiance @disneychic8

LOKI:

@arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77

#Peter x reader #Peter Parker x reader #loki x reader #angst #holly #fluff #twin sister reader #reader death #Peter x reader fluff #Peter x reader angst #nat x reader #Tony x reader #orphan!reader

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spin-birdie · 5 years ago

Text

there was a conversation in the rk1k discord about a spiderman au a while back and i decided to try write something about it bc its consuming like 30% of my brain

idk if i’ll write more (im way better at writing ideas down as bullet points instead of prose) but man it just seems like a neat idea idk

word count: 1.6k

pairing: general

additional tags: human au, physical violence, gavin is an unsympathetic rat boy

Look, Connor considers himself a calm person. He’s level-headed at the best of times. But he’s pretty sure even the calmest person would panic at least a little if they got stuck to their bedroom wall.

One hand is completely splayed out on the ceiling, the other one still stuck to his sneaker. His feet aren’t quite flat on the ceiling, but he certainly wouldn’t have a comfortable fall if he stopped sticking to everything. Why he’s sticking to everything, he still doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know why anything that’s happened to him today has happened; he grew a good three inches taller overnight, he accidentally stuck to his biology textbook - and subsequently tore it to shreds - this morning, and it’s like he’s jumping at the slightest provocation. There’s been a foul taste in his mouth all day, and he swears he somehow burned a piece of paper he chewed on, but he hasn’t got a fever. It doesn’t make any sense.

Even so, the thought sends Connor’s anxiety through the roof…more to the point, his anxiety is making him stick to the fucking roof.

For no good reason, he keeps thinking about yesterday. The field trip to the CyberLife Lab, the spider that crawled onto his hand and left him a painful, bruising bite. The tour guide said something about the experiments they were running on arachnids and other small animals, genetically enhancing them with nanobots in an attempt to slow or prevent extinction, or…something. But that doesn’t make sense. There’s no way to confirm the effects are transmittable to humans.

It’s probably not helping him at all to scream his head off, but he’s not sure what else he can do. He’s pulling his hand away from the ceiling as hard as he can, even trying to pry it off with the sneaker in his other hand, but it’s not working. He’s just putting more cracks in the paint.

He can’t see the door opening from his angle, but he hears it, followed by his dad’s voice: “Connor, are you o-- What the fuck?!”

At the same time as his dad swears, Connor finally frees his hand with a startled yelp. Drywall flakes off with it, but it doesn’t quite fall into his face before his entire upper body falls down with nothing to hold it up. The upside-down view of his room, of his dad’s confused and horrified expression, makes Connor nauseous.

And just a second too late, it strikes him that he’s hanging from the ceiling of an old house by nothing but the balls of his feet. With a dull crunch, the drywall above him gives out and he plummets to the floor. Connor’s fall is half-broken by his bed, but his knees land straight on the floor. Carpet be damned, it’s a rough landing.

And now there’s a perfect handprint of missing drywall on Connor’s ceiling.

---

Okay. So maybe Connor has unhuman abilities thanks to a genetically altered spider. That’s fine, probably. Kind of. Once he figures out how to ignore them, everything can go back to normal.

And for a few weeks, it’s almost like Connor gets away with telling himself that blatant lie. Ignoring them during school is hard and stressful, but at home, he’s free to throw theories (and himself) at the wall to see what sticks; and once he’s done that, he knows how to avoid triggering them. It gets a little bit easier to stop sticking to everything, to stop burning whatever enters his mouth or visibly jumping whenever something sets off his fight-or-flight reflex.

Maybe it’s a smarter idea to tell someone. Or maybe telling someone would be the fastest way to be locked up in a government facility and experimented on until someone wrote a book about him. Or maybe he’s being paranoid, but still, Connor has a bad feeling that he doesn’t want anyone to know what’s happening to him. And apart from his poor father, no one seems to know.

“Hey, jackass! I’m talking to you!”

That might change if this guy doesn’t leave him alone, though. Connor’s sharpened foresight allows him to step out of Gavin’s reach before he can grab Connor by the back of his sweatshirt. Instead of turning back to face Gavin, he pulls up his hood and keeps walking as fast as he can without looking conspicuous.

Gavin reaches out again, successfully pulling Connor back by his backpack. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

As Connor is forcefully spun around, he barely stops himself from glaring. “I’m pretty sure I’m not. And I’m pretty sure this isn’t even the way to your house, so you ought to turn back and go home.”

Predictably, Gavin ignores him. “Don’t play coy. You promised to help me out with exams, remember? I just need your English notes; I’ll bring them back safe and sound tomorrow, alright?”

“When I promised to help you, I thought that meant tutoring you. I’m not letting you copy my notes. Especially if you’re copying them word-for-word.”

“That was one time--”

“If you don’t want to listen in class, that’s your own problem.” Connor can’t quite stop spite creeping into his voice when he continues: “I’m not letting you get us both in trouble just because you don’t want to stop being an asshole.”

“Watch the tone, robot,” Gavin sneers.

“If you literally ever watched your own, I’d consider it. Instead, you have to waste all your energy on being the biggest dickhead on the planet and pretending you’re not just like every other mediocre straight guy ever.”

He shrugs Gavin off and steps back. “Ask someone else for help. I’m done talking to you.”

That proves to have gone too far as soon as Gavin shoves Connor back into the wall of a nearby building. His backpack stops his body from colliding at full force, but his head still gets knocked pretty hard. Right before Connor recovers, Gavin moves forward and punches him straight in the diaphragm. He doubles over for a moment before Gavin grabs him by the jaw and shoves his head back against the wall.

“Alright, smartass! I’ll give you one more opportunity to do this the easy way.”

It dawns on Connor just then; they’re alone. Connor is the only kid who goes home this way, and he doesn’t live in the nicest part of town. At school, there are always witnesses, no way for people to get away with beating each other up for very long. Out here, people probably won’t step in unless Connor runs for help, and he’s not sure if he can get away fast enough. At least, not without setting off his powers.

Connor bares his teeth. “Smartass this, retard that, do you even know my real name? Is your brain that small?”

Gavin hits him in the stomach again. And again. Connor thinks he hits a kidney on the third strike. And then he makes a snap decision, jerking his head to the side and biting down, hard, on Gavin’s finger.

“Ow, what the fuck?! Ow!”

Gavin recoils, clutching his hand like it’s on fire. Connor didn’t expect such a strong response, but he’s just glad he hasn’t got his back against a wall, and he wants to keep it that way. Without thinking, Connor grabs Gavin by the ears and headbutts him with all the force he can muster.

He promptly realizes a human skull is harder than he thought, so he hurts himself just as much as he hurts Gavin. And he’s within range for Gavin to reel back and knee him directly in the groin. As he curls in on himself, Gavin throws him to the ground and kicks him again in the stomach. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

He doesn’t stop, he even kicks and stomps on Connor’s ribs and face a few times for good measure. There’s blood in his mouth, and he’s not 100% sure it’s Gavin’s. He pulls his hood all the way over his face in an attempt to protect himself.

And a few moments later, it abruptly stops. Gavin breathes like he’s tired, but he’s not kicking Connor anymore.

“What are you doing?!” an unknown voice shouts. “Leave them alone!”

Gavin swears through gritted teeth, and Connor hears footsteps sprinting away. He doesn’t get up. The newcomer murmurs under his breath - their? It’s a masculine voice, at least - before more steps are heard. A hand rests on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

It takes Connor a few moments to find his voice. In the meantime, he drags himself into a sitting position, wincing at the pain. He’s definitely going to have some spectacular bruises, and that’s a best-case scenario. “I think so,” he grits out.

“Can you tell me your name?”

Connor lifts his hood enough to look at the stranger. A tall guy with tawny skin, who looks to be a little older than Connor. His head is shaved, but there’s a ghost of stubble on his jaw. His eyes are heterochromatic, focused intently on Connor even as he not-too-subtly gawks at the stranger’s arms. He’s obviously athletic, and the tank top he’s wearing doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination.

Oh, right. Still bi.

And still in immense physical pain. Connor leans over and cradles some of the worse pain spots. “I’m Connor.”

“Markus,” the stranger replies.

Something feels amiss all of a sudden. It’s close to that distinct feeling Connor gets when he’s in danger, but there’s something off about it. It’s pulling him towards something instead of away; towards Markus, specifically. Some unheard epiphany is pulling at the corners of Connor’s mind, stronger and stronger until it snaps. Almost simultaneously, they speak:

“You’re like me…”

#dbh #detroit become human #rk1k #rk1000 #fanfiction #original #spiderman au

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dat-town · 6 years ago

Text

hearts in the foam (and typos in names)

Characters: Minhyuk (Rocky) & You

Genre: so much fluff!

Setting: coffee shop au

Summary: You always spell his name wrong because his frustrated face is too precious.

Words: 1.7k

Shoutout for @kmhoodys because I totally stole this from our list of AUs, hope you enjoy it! ♥ Also for @restlessmaknae as a thank you for getting me into the fandom.

Park Minhyuk would like to think that he's a patient and kind person in general. He's pretty sure his friends would agree – maybe not Sanha but that's only because that brat likes to dance on others' nerves. His mom is probably biased but according to her he is the sweetest boy in the universe – okay, most definitely biased. But the thing about Minhyuk is that he gets on well with everybody: with the elderly of the neighbourhood because he's genuinely interested in their stories and is happy to help with their Internet connection when they want to FaceTime with their grandchildren, with his classmates who know they can count on him whenever because he is a trustworthy member of the student council and even with all kinds of animals – except cicadas – but dogs in particular love him. So he's an overall lovable person, okay?

But mornings are definitely the rock bottom for him. He knows he can be pretty grumpy before a reasonable hour but he still tries hard to behave like a decent human being. One thing he needs in his morning routine is some kind of coffee even is he prefers latte over strong caffeine. And since he is a man of reasonable choices he always buys his daily cup of energy in the lovely café on the campus because it happens to be on his way to university. They make it just as creamy and sweet as he likes it. However there's one thing he can't stand about the service there.

“They keep getting my name wrong!” he groans dramatically as soon as he slumps down next to his friends at the lecture hall. They all – except Moonbin who looks like as if he had run the marathon this morning – look up at him just as sleepily as he feels with bones buried under tiredness.

“Who?” Jinwoo furrows his brows as he tries and fails to contain a yawn.

“This one girl who works in the morning shift of the café. I’m a regular but she still asks for my name and manages to mess it up,” Minhyuk blurts out what his problem is all at once. He puts down his paper cup on his desk and glares at it so gruesomely as if it was the source of all his troubles, the bane of his existence.

“Maybe she has very bad memory?” Dongmin tries to reason with a weak guess.

“But come on, I have one of the most common male names in Korea! There are at least dozens of idols with this name,” the offended guy shakes his head and instead of useful advices or mental support what he gets is Myungjun arguing whether there's really that much Minhyuk in the kpop industry and he starts to count them out loud. Only Jinwoo seems helpful and attentive enough to engage in the conversation even further.

“True, you have a pretty usual name. What can she confuse it with?” he wonders and the question makes Minhyuk sigh as he is reminded of all times he faced with different syllables written on the cup instead of the ones he should have.

“Minhyun, Mingyu, Minhoon, Minjae, Min-whatever or today: Minhee! For god's sake, that's a girl name!” he grimaces when he loses counting the names on his fingers. There were even more occasions but he really couldn't keep track on all the names that girl came up with. He was fairly sure she was doing it on purpose and probably spent her time on Naver searching for even more names but the 30 million dollar question was: why? Why would she do that?

“Maybe you should try something new. An English name maybe,” Sanha suggests and Minhyuk can't believe that he's actually planning to take his advice but he has run out of any better ideas. Now he wanted to see once for all if the girl really did it on purpose or not.

So the next morning when he walked into the café and saw you at the counter, he mustered up all his courage to go to you like he did almost every day and make a bit of a fool out of himself with a smile on his face.

“Good morning! What can I get for you?” You turned to him, lovely as always. He swore your smiles were similar to sunrays warming the Earth and the glint in your eyes was like the stars in the universe. You looked the prettiest in that cute apron out of all the baristas at this place and it was truly devastating that it was your habit that made him frown with each cup of coffee he got.

“A large vanilla latte to go, thanks,” he repeats his usual order almost automatic and when you say the price he already knows, he pays without any other word.

He knows how the process goes by heart. He has been through this routine half-asleep, running to classes and totally out of it too, so it’s no-brainer what's next. So there it comes: you grab a pen and a big empty cup looking up at him with curious anticipation in your expressive eyes.

“Your name, please.”

It takes everything in him not to snap or blurt out his real name this time, but he keeps a straight face as he says: “Rocky.”

He watches your expression closely but you're either oblivious or a great actress because you don't even bat an eyelash before shifting your gaze to the cup and scribbling something on it.

“I'll let you know when it's done,” you promise softly and turning around you start to work on his drink as he sulkily sits down at a table while waiting. These quiet, short minutes has always given him the perfect opportunity to watch over you, the grace in your movements, the way you dance a bit to the silly songs from the radio or just the frown of concentration on your forehead as you draw the perfect heart in the foam of his latte. He almost forgets about his little test until you remind him to it in that melodic voice you have.

He's almost dreadful when you call him and he takes his cup. He shouldn't worry since everybody knows the American movie, you can't mess that up. And yet, you still do. The writing on the cup is definitely too long to be Rocky and isn't even a name to begin with.

You look cute when you are annoyed, it says and he just stands there dumbfounded while you're already serving another guest not paying attention to him any longer. He sticks by just a bit longer watching as the next guest gets his coffee – without heart in the foam! – then his alarm reminds him to get going.

He reads the message again and again as he walks towards the university building. At first he doesn't know what to do with it but then it makes him grin, then laugh. He doesn't even complain to his friends about the coffee girl that day and decides to change his strategy next time he visits.

It’s a lovely, warm morning, yet he can’t wait to have a hot drink in his hands. This time he came prepared. He waits for his turn patiently but he can't suppress a sly grin on his lips when he finally gets to the front of the queue. You nod in acknowledgement when he orders his usual, curly locks of hair falling into your eyes as you hover over the cup, pen ready in hand.

“Can I get your name?” You follow the routine and at this point, Minhyuk becomes sneaky.

“Yes,” he says simply, irrevocably and for once you seem surprised halting in your movements.

“What?”

“Yes.” he repeats clearer, not breaking eye contact as you croak a brow at him.

“Okay,” you huff out with an amused smile tinting your rosy lips.

Then he has nothing better to do than play with the piece of paper in his hands and wait until you call his so-called name for his done drink. He steals glances at you a few times in the meantime and once he catches you staring back at him. You both look away caught red-handed. Though, it boosts his confidence enough to stride to the counter with pride when you call for him.

“Large latte for Yes,” you say it with all seriousness in the world without any wariness in your voice. The other guests in the café might look weirdly at the two of you but you don’t care.

“Thanks,” he walks up to you and gently takes the cup from your hands finger still brushing yours lightly. Quickly he checks the ‘name’ written on it and he puts a similar paper cup into your hands.

“Hope you are free Friday,” he says with a cheeky smile leaving your astonished once again.

“What?” you blink, fingers mindlessly playing with the used cup you just got.

“You just said yes,” Minhyuk shakes his own drink flashing your writing on it and you look down on the cup placed in your right. It's the one from last time, your compliment and a new line in messy handwriting under your message: Would you like to go out sometime?

Very smooth, you have to give him that and you can’t help but smile. You wondered when he was going to step up his game. You were anticipating, to be honest.

“Do I have to call you by your name then, Minhyuk?” you teasingly ask, mouth curled up in a charming smile as you gaze settles on the boy with most beautiful chocolate eyes you have ever seen. Not to mention the cute nose scrunch he does when he’s frustrated. If he asked you would admit that the first time was a mistake for real, a careless typo but after that you became careless and it turned into a game to play. You’re glad he went along with it.

“I don't know. Maybe you can come up with a better one,” he shrugs now and the smile he flashes you might become your next favourite thing about him. He leans a bit forward and quiets down his voice as if he whispered a secret.

“Maybe you could try something sounding like boyfriend. We will see,” he winks at you and when he leaves the café shop he not only brings his latte along with him but a little piece of your heart already.

#astro fanfic #astro oneshot #astro fluff #rocky fanfic #rocky fluff #park minhyuk #rocky onshot #astro minhyuk #stories #coffee shop au

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smokeinherperfume · 6 years ago

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maybe more of intentionally mean. i just feel like everyone writes about harry so romantically when he's a guy and im sure he yells and gets angry and picks stupid fights with his partner also, he's only human. maybe something where you guys are only dating for a bit and then he fights with u over something stupid and calls u a bitch and ur like wtf not nice

(Okay so preamble here. I tried my hardest to follow your request to a T but I just couldn’t. He’s pretty mean here but not in a way that’s like… cruel. I hope it’s alright doll x )“I don’t have time right now Y/N.”

Perhaps it’s because you’ve had a long day. Or maybe it’sbecause it’s the first time in a month that he’s back after your apartmentafter a long stint of promo and touring.

Whatever the reason, you’re too caught up in having him backaround that you miss the definite edge to his words. The way he’s definitely beingshort with you, keeping his answers curt, barely uttering a word more than asyllable to you as he tries to focus on the lyrics he’s already spent weeks onin his battered journal.

“But Harry, you always love going out for a night drive. Andit’s still warm enough that we can get ice cream on the pier and then sit onthe beach under the lights they have up. –“

“No.”

“No? What do youmean no? I thought you came over for date night…”

“Date night? It’s not even bloody Tuesday Y/N, come off it.”He huffs, trying to regain focus on the words scrawled out on the page in frontof him.

“Pleaseeeeee H, it’ll be so much fun. I promise just putyour work to the side for once and take some time off.” You’re about to walk over him when his posturestiffens. He sits up on the sofa, finally turning around, freezing you in placewith a glare that makes your body feel numb.

“I mean I don’t fucking have time for your ridiculous littleplan Y/N. How is this that difficult for you to understand?” His voice isalmost like a growl as he slaps his notebook shut, shoving his pen in thepocket of his trousers. “I came over for some peace because I figured you couldfucking keep yourself busy while I work. I just wanted to write here because Iknow you haven’t seen me in a while. But if you’re going to hound me like thiswhen I’ve got a deadline for next week I might as well leave.”

There’s venom in his words, and it makes you feel soincredibly small. So unbelievably worthless that you can’t muster up the energyto fire back your own retort, instead glancing down at the floor, noddingsilently as you feel your bottom lip quiver.

“ ‘m sorry H I just-“

“I’m gonna go sit on the balcony and try to finish this.Just… don’t interrupt me alright?” With that he rises from the sofa, brushingpast you as you stand defeated in the middle of the living room, wincing whenyou hear the screen door slam shut behind him.

You’re not sure what to do in the silence of your apartment,feeling silent tears start to streak down your cheeks as you feel almost frozenin spot. You can smell smoke drifting in through the kitchen window, realizingthat he’s found the pack of cigarettes you leave out there, knowing that heclearly must be stressed.

But regardless, you’re hurt, your mood plummeting furtherand further with every second that ticks by.

Not wanting to think about it anymore, you trudge off toyour room, not bothering to shut off any of the lights in your place as you go,moving through your apartment almost like a ghost. When you get changed forbed, you toss the oversized t-shirt that was once Harry’s to the side, riflingthrough your dresser until you find one from your college days and slip it on.

Burrowing as far under the covers as you can, you finallyallow yourself the space to cry, your quiet sobs muffled by the thick sheets.

~*~

You don’t know when exactly you fall asleep, or when Harrypads into bed beside you, but you know it’s late. The air hanging around himthick with the scent of cigarettes as he slips under the sheets, snuggling upto you like nothing happened earlier that night.

He’s just about to wrap his arms around you, moments awayfrom pulling you in so your back is pressed against his chest when you wake.Almost afraid, you push his hand away, whining softly when he grunts inprotest.

“ ‘S just me pet. Go back to sleep.” He croons, trying tonuzzle into the crook of your neck.

But you’re still so raw, your emotions running rampant, thatyou don’t even want him close to you right now—with every touch from him almostburning you. Mustering up all the courage you can, you push him away, sittingupright in your bed as you hug your t-shirt close to your body.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” He grumbles, almost as if he’sforgotten everything that transpired just hours ago.

“Harry, I think you need to sleep on the sofa tonight.”Somehow you manage to keep your voice from trembling as you speak, staring atthe painting that hangs on the wall near the foot of your bed, knowing that ifyou looked into his eyes you’d cave much too easily.

“What? Why?” He rolls over onto his back beside you and sitsup as well, trying to rest his chin on your shoulder though you move out of hisreach before he can get situated. “Wait, is this about earlier love? ‘m sorry Iyelled but y’just wouldn’t let me be. Needed t’get my work done.”

Shaking your head, you pull the sheets back from him,exposing him to the chill air of the bedroom. “There’s sheets and blankets inthe cupboard in the hallway. I think it’s best if you leave me alone tonight.”

“But Y/N, love, I said I was sorry, was nothin’ more than a stupidfight. C’mon let’s jus’ get some sleep.” He tries to protest as you shake your head, evading every single one ofhis touches as he finally relents, climbing out of bed.

He’s just about to leave the room when you quietly clearyour throat, pulling his attention back to you. You curl up under your sheetsonce more, staring up at the ceiling as he hovers in the doorway, waiting tohear what you have to say. He’s hopeful that maybe you’ve seen the sense inwhat he’s said, but he realizes that fixing things won’t be so easy this time,finally registering the pain in the last words you say to him that night.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning Harry.”

send in your drabble requests here!

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uldren-sov · 7 years ago

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meeting

SHE CALLED I JUST ANSWERED

Nioven belongs to @makeramidying and they were kind of enough to let me do this with my kind of first serious attempt at writing after a bunch of shit so i apologize if im a bit rusty Elora is mine <3

summary: Jedi and Sith fight and have fun doing it :) warning for violence

The Jedi raised her white blade high over her head with a deflection as Elora caught and allowed herself to skid into a wide stance and to a halt just some twenty feet in front of her. No matter what her soldiers had called her, the Jedi before her was certainly no Knight.

“You deserve a raise,” she called out suddenly. She felt her lips curl, unbidden, into a half-cocked grin as her foe’s own twitched and she had to fight the smile off as well.

“I’d say tell them that, but I doubt it’d really help things!” The Mirialan re-positioned herself and fixed the grip on her saber. There was a fire in her eyes, in her strikes and moves that Elora could not help but, as a fighter, be drawn to. There was a pride behind every one of the Jedi’s swings, she could see the righteous wrath that fueled her as clear as day. Elora recognized that drive, that anger, that burn for an engagement to prove something - maybe not to anyone else but herself. She recognized it because she saw it every day when she looked in the mirror, felt it every moment she fought.

She panted softly as she spun her blades, once, one after the other, in her hands and started to circle casually around her. The Jedi’s version of Juyo - as her opponent was using - was stilted, almost defensive, it lacked the rawness to let go and utterly dominate the opponent. She could work with that and more to the point the Jedi knew she could as well.

She was being watched with the focus only a Jedi could muster, though - something that time and time again got her in trouble. A tilt to her head, a narrowing of her light eyes that pulled on the tattoos on her cheeks and she recognized the peacocking for what it was. As a result, she drew her foot out, made a line in the dirt, and stepped back, sinking back down into her stance - white blade high and reflecting off the white of her armor.

That’s the line, just try and cross it.

Elora took the taunt, extinguished her dual blades, and vanished. She watched as immediately the Jedi’s stance changed, a lower guard, a higher stance - one she can more readily react to a wide berth of attacks upon her. Any normal Knight might have been slow to adapt, she? She was certainly different, even as she closed her eyes to focus her senses now on just where Elora may be. She kept scanning the horizon, checking her blind spots with her mind.

She kept shrouded almost near to the end of her ability before she surged forward. A twist, a kick up, and while the Jedi may have been checking around her, she certainly did not check above. She she yelled with the effort as her focus broke and she appeared just above the Jedi, igniting her blades - about to neatly decapitate the Jedi from the spinning momentum with a slash from her mainhand. But the Jedi’s instincts were true as she had enough time to block the slash handily. Which Elora was counting on. She stabbed down with the second blade hoping to find purchase in her shoulder when the block, instead, was more of an overhead strike, deflecting both of the sabers away as she completed her twist and landed low.

She dodged a knee to her face and parried another overhead strike as she spun back up to her feet trying to follow up with a quick stab with the Jedi’s saber deflected before she just extended her leg and caught Elora in the stomach. A tight exhale as she let the pain suffuse through her, starting another flurry of strikes but every one was systematically beaten back with the double-handed strength of her own or by the Jedi getting too in her face to strike her effectively in the first place.

After minutes of a rampant affair her arms were burning, she saw the sweat dripping off of her opponent’s olive-green complexion, as finally their blades caught and sparked with the sudden stalemate. She breathed through a fierce grin as the grim, scarred, countenance of the Jedi similarly just had to smile. They were warriors, that shared fire burned in both of them, and this? This was a hell of a blaze.

She took a gamble.

She suddenly shifted to the side, deflecting the saber off of her own two as the Jedi was set off balance. She could quickly cut back up through - she had her opening, but instead extinguished her blades, and - using the Jedi’s own leg as a perch spun to catch a hooking heel to the side of her face. She saw the sudden reversed grip on the blade as the Jedi caught her foot and absorbed most of the damage as she was sent rolling just a couple feet onto the dirt.

She didn’t use the chance to quickly follow up and in seeing the Jedi in that last moment - she could have easily just pointed her hilt her way, ignited it, and probably ran her through somewhere vital if she had so chosen to. But they didn’t. Neither of them did.

Instead they had space between them now, weapons off, and for a moment they just stared at each other, panting. She drew some hairs from her mouth as the Jedi pushed herself back up. The hair around them was electric with the promise of more carnage, more of a fight, more of this energy they both found they thrived off of. Even as the adrenaline and surge of aggression threatened to burn her until she was empty, Elora knew there was only so much farther a Jedi could go with such a style before threatening to lose something in themselves; or admit something they fought against.

So they stared each other down, caught their breath, and allowed for the dust to finally settle on the battlefield.

“Do you yield, Sith?” the Jedi called. She was the first one to speak, gulping back a breath as she kept the hilt of her white saber at the ready, blade ready to be ignited once more. Elora looked between the hilt, and those light, fierce, eyes of her opponent.

“Do you?” she questioned simply. It was a good fight, it would be a shame to destroy something that gave her such pleasure in fighting - the fierce, wide, smile still hadn’t left her face. There was a huff of something like laughter from the Jedi as she just shook her head.

“No fucking way,” she challenged. Damn, if that wasn’t enough to make her want to go for round two but - they were both unfit to continue in the fashion they wanted to.

“You’re such a good sport. I’d hate to destroy you now,” she replied. Her own hilts were warm in her hands; heavy, as well.

“Then I believe we are at an impasse,” the Jedi concluded.

There was a beat and at once they both, at the same time, returned their hilts to their belts. The Jedi heaved a sigh and flipped her braid off of her shoulder as Elora ran her hand through her hair, pushing it back.

“What’s your name, Jedi?”

“Nioven,” she said after a moment, brushing the dirt off of her white armor as she stood tall, kept her chin raised. Proud, fierce, beautiful, Elora clicked her tongue and shook her head - good fighters are always wasted on the Jedi. “Yours?”

“Darth Aesis,” she said. After a moment she gave a sharp nod to Nioven “you may call me Elora. Nioven, you would be such a force to be reckoned with if the Jedi did not hold you back. Literally and figuratively, I imagine,” she said. It usually fell on deaf ears but she saw the annoyance of being called a Knight, the frustration in some of her strikes.

“Yeah, sure,” Nioven nodded somewhat then stared her right in the face, “but at what cost? If this is some line, I’m definitely not biting Aes - I mean - Elora. Sorry.”

“A shame,” and she meant that. There was a quick tightening of Nioven’s lips, a quick look away, maybe she was more onto something than she intended. “If that is indeed the case, you should know this will not happen again.”

“Yeah ... I know,” Nioven replied with a setting of her jaw and a fierce nod of finality. “It seems bad form to wish a Sith, especially a Darth, good luck but, uh. Maybe instead I can say: I hope to see you again, Elora. Definitely.” That fire ignited behind her eyes, one last fight, where one of them does not walk away from it.

“And I hope to never see you again,” she countered. She smirked a little and turned away, “it’ll be a damn waste for me to kill you when that time comes. The Jedi still need to find some way to keep this war interesting!” She called without turning around and heard the soft laughter from behind her.

War did, indeed, make for some interesting encounters afterall.

#SWTOR #SWTOR OC #Jedi Knight #Sith Warrior #my writing #other people's ocs #Nioven #OC: Elora

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portraitsofivy · 7 years ago

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i didn’t realize how much better i’ve gotten since may until i scrolled back in my google drive to february and saw a piece i wrote called ‘not selfish enough.’ i want to share it bc i feel like its a pretty important piece showing how much i’ve progressed in just a few months, but please be aware that it has several suicidal themes and images, bc, at the time, i was suicidal.

February/March 2017

She stares ahead, seeing the road but unable to focus on it. A song plays over the car’s speakers, one that she would usually sing along with. But today her lips remain still. The skin is dry and cracking from the harsh, cold air coming from the air conditioning vents pointed at her face.

She can’t even muster up the energy to turn the air down.

When she gets home, she takes the keys out of the ignition and picks up her backpack before walking into the house, mind racing with all the assignments she has to complete by the end of the week and how much she does not want to do them. She really just wants to sleep.

If she lived alone that’s exactly what she would do. Listen to the Dear Evan Hansen soundtrack as she showers and then collapses on the bed to sleep for thirteen hours.

Is that considered a depression sleep? She doesn’t know.

But instead she has to write a speech for her communications class tomorrow. She needs to get at least a C on this speech to pass the class. A C is what she recieved on her last speech, and with this one she has even less of an idea of where to start. Then there’s English, a ten page paper that needs to be edited extensively, and PE notes to memorize. It isn’t a lot of schoolwork, but even this small amount is overwhelming to her.

She goes to bathe several hours later, at least half of her work still unfinished. Her father, brother, and sisters lie asleep in their beds as she quietly showers. She looks at the razor hanging from the rack.

She wonders if she’ll ever use it.

But this time, she turns away and grabs the bottle of shampoo instead.

That night she dreams a horrible dream, and wakes at four am wracked with guilt for an act she did not commit.

That morning her mind reminds her she isn’t worthy of breakfast. She eats a muffin anyways.

On the drive to school she remembers again how easy it would be to turn the steering wheel and crash. She continues straight ahead.

At lunch she struggles to eat a sandwich.

That afternoon she feels awful for eating a piece of chocolate.

That night she stares at the razor longer than any night before.

She finally falls asleep after three hours of silent crying and reminders that she isn’t good enough. She screwed up. She is a screw up. She isn’t worthy of the title of Christian, she doesn’t even know if she believes in God.

Of course she believes in God. But even demons believe in God. They believe in God and tremble. She believes in God and doesn’t know what comes after that.

No one would love her if they knew. Nobody should love her, she isn’t worth it.

Each day she falls a little farther. She stares at the razor more often, one time she even picked it up.

She stares at the small portion of food and wonders if she should put it away.

She scratches at her wrist, but that’s as far as it goes.

She draws lines on her thighs with a Sharpie, but nothing more.

Because she knows that if she takes the blade and even just places it against her wrist, it will dig in. And then it won’t leave.

She knows that if she skips even one meal it will become a competition to see how little she can eat and how long she can go between nourishment.

If she takes even one more step towards the hole, she will fall in, and she will never come out.

And she isn’t selfish enough to do that.

And then we move ahead to July. I was better, but still sad. Mostly i just slept a lot.

July 2017

She’s a bit better now. Not as overwhelmed, not as sad. She doesn’t have breakdowns as often, but they loom over the horizon. School starts back in about a month.

Her summer job is unbearable, the girl she keeps every day is exhausting. Adyson manipulates and cries and breaks down every time something doesn’t go the way she wants. She cries because the babysitter wants to teach her how to cook pizza instead of just cooking the pizza herself. She spouts off hateful things, such as how others are better sitters, how this one makes her want to die, how she wishes she could run away, and how she doesn’t have a mother.

She tries to blame the last one on the babysitter somehow.

Every night she comes home exhausted from keeping Ady. She stays for ten hours to watch over someone else’s child and honestly does not get paid enough for this crap.

She wishes she had time to write, to film, edit, draw, create. She wishes there were more hours to the day so that she could sleep long enough to feel rested when she wakes. She wishes that she didn’t feel slighted anytime she went to help at the theatre. She wishes people treated her the same way she treats them.

She thinks about the kids she has to instruct over the course of the next two weeks and how she has to pull aside Callie and Victoria to tell them to include their “friend.” She had to move Noel from a group where she knew no one to a group where people know her, but act like they don’t.

She’s certain one of the Ashworth girls is going to have a breakdown at camp. Maybe two of them. Maybe all three.

She hopes this new medicine she’s supposed to get makes her less tired so she can keep up with the kids. She wishes caffeine worked on her like it did everyone else.

And even though this kid is driving her absolutely insane, she has managed to find a bright spot. She edited a video, and it is going to be shown at church.

And while darkness looms over the horizon, brightness does too.

And relapse snippets:

“I’m proud of you.”

Why?

------

Four hours sleep, one coffee, nearly ten hours of relapses.

--------

Relapse. Relapse. Red skin. Marks.

Nothing physically permanent. Everything mentally permanent.

And then . . . nothing. I started school, and saw a counselor. She suggested that instead of things like this, I list the things i’m thankful for. She says that recovery from depression is hard, because you’re literally training your mind to think differently. You’re creating new nueropathways. But I tried.

Most of the items on the list are my friends, and different activites that we had planned. But here are the three things that stood out to me the most.

im good enough

The promise of future plans

that God loves me

And I think those sum it up the best.

#depression #my journey #testimony sorta #recovery #journal #suicide #tw suicide #tw #suicide tw #brooklyn rants

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smokeybrandreviews · 5 years ago

Text

Smokey brand Movie Reviews: Subtext

So i saw Cats. I had to know if it really was as bad as everyone says. It is. It’s terrible. It’s literally one of the worst films i have have ever seen but for different reasons than publicized. I plan to describe every short coming this film proudly presents, at length. Before we get into why it’s so goddamn awful, there are certain things that deserve recognition.

The Good

Cats is kind of ambitious. I like that they decided to build actual sets to scale. There is a sense of realness to this world and you have to this movie that i didn’t expect.

The actual effects on the cats, themselves, are pretty legit once you get outside of that uncanny valley. Like, the process to create those fur suits was ridiculous. It’s every bit as impressive as what Cameron did with Avatar. The theory of those cats i mean.

Francesca Hayward is pretty dope in this. She’s a great singer, brilliant dancer, and absolutely gorgeous. If this were a play, it would have been dope. If they would have used actual makeup and sh*t, it wold have been dope. choosing the way they decoded to present this sh*t? A waste. This was a waste of Francesca’s talent.

Jennifer Hudson singing Memory was f*cking incredible. I’m told the version she sang on one of those reality talent shows was much better, so i googled it, and it was. So much better. Still, the one they decided to film was decent. Hudson is one of the best singers of her generation and Memory has ample opportunity to belt out them emotional notes.

You can tell Tom Hooper had a passion for this material. Like, he wanted to make this grandiose film based on the garish play. That’s going to come back to bite him in the ass overall, but it’s nice to see a director making something that the actually loves.

The Bad

Literally everything else. his entire film is, quite literally, one of the worst films i have ever seen in my entire life. There is just SO much wrong with this thing. So goddamn much. Every decision made during this production was wrong and it’s kind of amazing.

First and foremost, why the f*ck did they choose to portray the Cats the way that did? These things are HIDEOUS! I mean, uncanny valley, for sure, but i’ve seen enough films and played enough games not to be unnerved by bad graphics. But this? this sh*t is so much more than that. These little cat people things are unforgivably odious in so many ways. I’m not going to get into the way they have people hands or can’t decide to be bipedal or how ridiculous they look on all fours. No, my thing is the way the faces are integrated into the fur suit. That’s not makeup. It’s legit CG. They tried to emulate the Cats Broadway makeup in a more realistic way and it misses the mark by a long shot. They’re gross. Gross and weird. Your main characters are gross and weird to look at.

Bro, these cats are constantly f*cking Like, all of the time. It’s not outright but you can tell they are constantly making with the coitus, figuratively. I’m pretty sure there’s a catnip fuels orgy there toward the end? Middle? i don’t know. I thought maybe it was just, you know, Hooper being cheeky in the beginning but then Jason Derulo, f*cking Rum Tum Tugger, shows up and just simulates the f*ck while Rebel Wilson cat, quite literally, makes overtly objectifying about Tugger’s tugger. It’s gross and weird.

Everything is washed in neon lights and i don’t understand why. The majority of this film supposed to take place at night so it make sense that there would be neon signs and everything but. even indoors, during that big Taylor Swift number, fluorescent neon lights. It’s unnerving and grates on the eyes, man. You put in all this work to create these detailed sets and thing but then immediately erased the detail by saturating it in artificial, scathingly colored, light? Really, dude?

There is no substance to this film. There is no character growth, no pathos, no stakes. Nothing. It’s a bunch of dance numbers introducing a bunch of asshole cats, looking to be ritually murdered. That’s it. That’s the entire plot. One cat wants to be murdered more than all the others so he’s kidnapping the competition to be the only option left for sacrifice. That’s stupid when you hear it like that, right? Because it is. Cats is stupid. Giving it that big budget, Hollywood Oscar bait treatment doesn’t change any of that stupid. The play Cats is fundamentally retarded so how could the movie version not be? I hate films that never grow, that never have resolution but this sh*t doesn’t even have anything to resolve. It’s a literal waste of time and my time is actually valuable.

Im not going to get into the many, many, MANY plot contrivances because then i’d have to actually think about this movie instead of just referencing the notes i already took down. I did the work beforehand and i do not want to revisit this feline hellscape any time ever. That said, nothing makes f*cking sense in this move. There are Jellical cats, magic cats, gangster cats, thief cats; it’s all over the place. Motherf*ckers are in cahoots with the main villain cat and when the does a villainous thing, they are all, “ We didn’t know he was a villain.” Really? Magic cat is magic but literally doesn’t us it until the plot absolutely demands it making that use that cat the definition of deus ex machina. Like, they’re not even clever about it. It’s actually insulting how blatant it is.

Interesting enough, outside of Memory, the music in this musical is forgettable. I can’t name one song from this thing that sticks with me. I still remember the first few lines to the opening song of Sweeney Todd. I can sing to you the colors of the wind. Hakuna Matata means no worries. I can show you the world. We’re of to see the wizard. I bet you know those songs. Bet you don’t even know the original track Swift and Webber wrote for this fart of a film.

The writing in this thing is f*cking putrid, man. The source material is sh*t and i didn’t expect anything great from an adaption but this? I expected more than this. Nothing makes sense. The dialogue is, one could say stylized but i’d say it’s dumb. This sh*t is dumb. Nothing feels organic, especially at the end. That whole situation with Judi Dench accepting Francesca James into her little weird stray cat cult was all cringe, no love. Everything said in this ridiculous movie is cringe. It’s just a goddamn cringefest! Seriously, the writing in this “movie’ is about as good as the writing in a Michael Bay flick. It’s that bad.

This movie has some of the most uninspired camera work i have ever seen in my entire life. It’s shot like a play; A single camera, centered on the shot, with no dynamism at all. There’s no pans or strafe or anything of that nature which works if you’re filming a play but this ain’t a play. It’s a film. Take Sweeney Todd for example. That’s how you make a film musical. West Side Story is another decent example. F*ck, that one movie with Gosling and Stone, La La Land? Yeah, even THAT one was shot dynamically. it was shot like a f*cking film. An even better example? the Les Miserables example. That Hooper, himself, shot! You did this once before and got Oscar for it. The f*ck happened? Yu forget hoe to make movies or something?

While i’m on Hooper, the f*ck kind of direction is any of this? It’s terrible! All of these performances, outside of Jason Derulo who was truly awful but brought a very refreshing energy to his nonsense, were uninspired. Like, they all just kind of went through the motions, you know? tom Hooper had been trying to get this film made for years and THIS was what he was able to muster? With THAT cast? are you f*cking serious??

Now, i lauded Francesca Hayward in her performance as Victoria, and that is legitimate praise, but everyone else in this thing is sh*t. Like, James as spectacular in her role, but her role is sh*t. That’s the ebb and flow of this movie. One thing is decent, but it’s mired in sh*t. James is gorgeous in real life and you see a bit of that in Victoria’s face but Victoria is a computer generated monstrosity and this movie insists upon reminding you of that every time she does anything with her face It’s weird and gross, man.

Speaking of probably brilliant performances mired by the outright sh*ttiness of the visual aesthetic in this clusterf*ck masquerading as cinema, i’m pretty sure Rebel Wilson has a beautiful voice. I wouldn’t know for sure because they limited her character to kind of a terrible lounge lizard set piece full of cockroaches and baby mice. I got a whole eyeful of her cat puss though. Thanks for that, assholes.

Another anecdotal performance that it thought might have been really good belonged to Idris Elba but i think his shortcoming had more to do with the character writing that screen time. Elba is almost always brilliant in any role he accepts and dude is musically incline, Elba was once a DJ and raps wonderfully if you didn’t know, so i can see them throwing a hip-hop curve to Macavity that could have worked if approached with respectful aplomb. Nope. This motherf*cker is a campy goober in a fur coat and a derby. Macavity is the main villain if this entire bullsh*t and i’m supposed to be afraid of him when he looks like a brown, nude, 70s style pimp with cat ears? For Real?

Jame Corden is the goddamn worst. That’s it. That’s the grievance. James Corden is the goddamn worst.

Why was Jason Derulo in this? He’s a singer, not a film actor, which is easier than being a theater actor. Dude just acts like he’s in a music video. Like, i’m watching his little set pieces or whatever and all i see is 90s Usher, dancing to My Way or some sh*t.

Why was Taylor Swift in this movie? I mean, i know why. They promised her a chance to win win an Oscar with an original song, that’s why. Hooper thought this thing was going to sweep the Oscars but this it sh*t the bed in theaters. it probably should have sh*t Swift out before production, though. She’s kind of awful.

And then there’s the two most egregious offenses in this entire film; The casting of Dame Judi Dench and Sir Ian McKellen. These are Actors. They are Oscar caliber talent, Dench winning several while McKellen being nominated twice. Both of these individuals have a background IN theater. Hell, Dame Dench was cast as Girsabella in the original 80s run but had to drop out due to injury! They live this life! How are they so goddamn awful in this movie??

The Verdict

I said this in the beginning but Cats is one of the worst films i have ever seen in my entire f*cking life. I feel like there were more decent performances in this thing, Idris Elba was probably fantastic, bit the material the had to perform and the god-awful cat effects just wash over anything these actors can possibly do. Who is this for? Why are all of these cats so f*cking horny? What was the point of this aimless journey Hooper took us on? There are no answer for anything, which is hilarious, because this movie asks no questions. It asks nothing of the audience. It just kind of happens to you. I reference the writing being as terrible as a Michael Bay film but Cats IS a Michael Bay film. If you replace the dance numbers with explosions or creepy shots of Francesca Hayward’s butt, and it’s Revenge of the Fallen. Straight up Bayhem in a fur suit.

Cats is vapid, superficial, and insists upon itself. This movie thinks it’s more than what it is and believes it should be recognized when, in reality, it’s lowest common denominator film making and should be forgotten. This thing was constructed to swoon over the Academy but it ends up grossing out the audience. Cats is hollow and a waste of time while being one of the most visually revolting experiences i have ever had the displeasure of enduring. Do not watch this film unless you want to be angry you wasted damn near two hours of your time. Also, it’s ugly.

#Smokey brand Movie Reviews #Cats

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smokeybrand · 5 years ago

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Smokey brand Movie Reviews: Subtext

The Good

Cats is kind of ambitious. I like that they decided to build actual sets to scale. There is a sense of realness to this world and you have to this movie that i didn’t expect.

The Bad

Jame Corden is the goddamn worst. That’s it. That’s the grievance. James Corden is the goddamn worst.

The Verdict

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soprana-snap · 7 years ago

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Magnolia Seven-Seven

Chapter One: Just Peachy

Summary: Magnolia is like every other city, full of traffic jams and hoards of people. When Captain Gajeel and Detectives Gray and Natsu get involved with a shady crime boss that seems to have the whole crime ring in his back pocket, they need a little more backup to bring him down: i.e ADA Lucy Heartfilia, Evidence Technician Levy McGarden, and Caffeinator Juvia Lockster.

Rating: M for adult situations and language

A/N: This is all Alisha’s fault. Blame @rivendell101 for this monstrosity. Buddycop!AU conceived after eating 22 Reese’s and no sleep...after how many months of not writing.

Gray mentally promised to strangle whomever decided shove glitter and peppermints down this car’s dashboard vents. It wasn’t even hot out and yet the car smelled of mint and tiny rainbow glitter blinded him if he turned his head the wrong way.

Plus it made the dashboard look like a wayward unicorn shat all over.

Of course his captain got first pick of the undercover cars and of course he picked the coupe, leaving them with the SUV with the atomic glitter explosion all over. He wondered if there was regrets, anger, maybe bitter acceptance when the poor soul turned on the defrost and met his sparkled fate. At least the car forever smelled of peppermint, the candy caked into the bowels of the car for eternity. No amount of body odor or bad burritos can ever clear it. He turned the air conditioning to maximum.

“Batman can totally beat Aquaman. Remember he is the night AND a billionaire.”

Oh, right. Before his intense pondering of the dashboard, he and his partner had been in an intense debate.

Natsu Dragneel. Gray had no way to explain him properly. Who could? He supposed Natsu felt the same way about him, despite being rivals in the academy. Pink hair aside, the man had grit for an idiot. He was the only one Gray would trust with his back...and their captain too.

“Nah, Aquaman has Batman beat.”

Natsu tensed, flashing his signature ‘eat shit’ look. It was kinda like a constipated face, but with more rage in his brows. Honestly, how did he make Detective? He was a bag of half eaten, dusty Reese’s: useless to everybody and, with as much affection as Gray could muster, totally gross in theory.

“You know what Gajeel said. ‘Back up yer opinions’,” he said, mimicking Gajeel’s gruff tone. Huh, he even did the little lip curl characteristic common for Gajeel. “So, back your wrong opinion up.” He changed the A/C dial back to maximum heat.

Gray curled his lip and wrinkled his nose. Patience is key, he told himself. Plus, the captain would kill him if Natsu ended up dead before they could make the arrest. He tossed a glance to his left, toward the alley that was where everything was supposed to be.

“Well, Aquaman can control the animals in the ocean,” he tried, knowing full well it was a half baked answer. They were both getting antsy, like bloodhounds waiting for the trumpet to signal the hunt. He turned the A/C back to full cold. The unit within the dash gave a tired rumble, but held on.

Natsu rose an unimpressed eyebrow, but Gray caught the subtle glances towards the alley and the anxious leg bobbing. The car was starting to shake too from the increasing force, the leftover bottles and cans of 5-hour energy rolling too.

He mentally promised to strangle whomever used the car last. He didn’t miss the bags of fast food tossed into the back or the forgotten Taylor Swift CDs. Someone either had an open addiction to Tay Tay or was hiding the evidence of it. Either way, the car was a pig’s sty.

“And?” Natsu prompted, reaching over and turning the A/C dial back to maximum heat.

“He can drown trying to fight Aquaman.” ‘Duh’, he wanted to add, but when the captain was gone, he was in charge. Natsu had a nasty habit of playing disappear and bust the suspect alone if he wasn’t watched. The A/C was back to cold in a flash.

“Uh, billionaire? He can buy a submarine, go down and torpedo Aquaman, then eat whatever sushi he likes!” He then chuckled, “Batmarine.” When he turned the A/C to heat this time, there was a low clunk in the car.

Gray switched it back to cold before the unit could even scrape up enough warm air. “Aquaman can make a creature eat the sub--including Batman!” The inside voice was forgotten, the stir crazy pair now unleashed.

“Can not! Whatever it is can just poop him out! Plus, he can kill it from the inside!” Natsu argued, turning the dial back to heat. The car’s engine shuddered but still idled softly.

“Fine! The giant squid can crack it open like a pistachio and then Aquaman can feed Batman to an orca or shark! Baddabing, he’s dead!” At this, he turned the dial ruthlessly to cold and popped the plastic out of the socket, leaving just a metal stub. Suck it Natsu, he thought. Serves him right for leaving his weights out on the floor and making me and Gajeel clean them up, he added pridefully.

Natsu looked like he swallowed something foul, his eyes nearly crossing as he puffed his cheeks, probably choking on his defense but realizing it wasn’t good enough. Gray kinda hoped he choked so he could get a good laugh. He hastily dug into his breast pocket, pulling out his smartphone.

“And don't even think about Googling it,” he added sharply.

“...Fuck off, Gray.” Natsu decided after scowling hard enough to make a squirrel lose its fur. The man crossed his arms, sticking out his bottom lip and turned away to stare angrily out the passenger window.

“That may work on Lucy, but I still think you are a loser.”

That earned him a solid punch in the shoulder that started an all out slapping fight. Hands were flying, slapping at anything in their path. If they were to lay low, it was too late now, the gloves were off.

He had to have the largest fucking migraine on the continent at the moment. It was bad enough that he had to pretend he didn’t, but his two numskulls forgot they both were wearing microphones that dual transmitted right into his eardrum. It was safe to assume they weren’t listening to his relays either, judging by the constant shuffles and sounds of curses.

He could manage through their childish games: like Rock, Paper, Scissors and I spy. He could manage with the sounds of them chewing on whatever the hell they had in the car. He could even deal with their subpar debates on superheros. But this was total pain. Maybe he was hearing them all the way in the warehouse without the microphone!

“Shut up.” His own voice sounded raw from the irritation boiling through his body. He could hear them silence, the static crackling at their startled breaths. “Take this seriously.”

“Excuse me?”

Only years of experience with his old man prepared Gajeel for this. The straight face. The harsh growl in his demands. Weaker men have caved with less. Still....a theft trade bust was not the place to use these skills.

The brat looked like the damn wind could prance by and carry him away to the land of Oz or something, nothing but skin and bones with bruises as accents. Not one doubt entered his mind that this runt was high school age, a dropout most likely. Yet, his brown irises were shadowed with black eyes, his nose broken a few times too. A brawler beaten too many times by the world.

“I said shut up and take this seriously. I wanna buy your shit but I ain’t got the whole Bank of Magnolia.”

Nice save, Natsu praised in his ear.

Fuck off, peanut gallery, Gajeel answered in his mind. Honestly, when Makarov first assigned two upstart detectives under his command, he had his concerns. Now, it was headaches but whatever. If they messed up this bust they’ve been marking for weeks, he’d tan their hides himself.

The kid blinked, hesitation finally making an appearance on his face. Ah, so he did have some self preservation.

Time to switch tactics. Back to the basics, as he would tell the knuckleheads.

Before the runt could gather his bearings, Gajeel made his switch. He forwent diplomacy and straight into intimidation.

The kid’s coat felt like it hadn’t been washed in years, the fabric crinkling like tin foil. Something smelled nasty too, body odor soaked in skunk probably. He wished his nose would take a hike to spare him as he brought the kid near his face, flashing his teeth.

“Listen, I ain’t got all day and all the money in the world. So, I’ll make it simple. Point me to the procurer of these gizmos and I’ll leave ya be.” The way the kid shivered and his eyes shriveled in fear was nearly intoxicating.

Fear. The law of the world. At least, the underbelly of the world.

“Look man, I’m just doing what my boss says. I don’t want no trouble!” As if it would placate the situation, the kid showed his palms, empty and in surrender. Like him, Black Steel Gajeel would ever accept such a surrender.

“Do me the solid and point ‘im out for me.” The growl that came from his throat brought back memories, flashes of frightened eyes and darker days. “I don’t want a small fry like you but you’re making me late for an appointment.”

Intimidation.

Metalicana taught him this from day one, back when the path was so long and crooked. Of course, that was back then and he was different now: A changed man.

When the kid frantically gestured to his side, but subtle so that it looked like he just twitched, the glee melted away to cold self loathing in an instant. His grip relaxed, the boy’s feet touching back to concrete. Acid burned the back of his mouth. It had been months. He thought he had himself under control.

The academy didn’t beat it out of him after all.

“You need Wheaties,” he settled with, adjusting the flap of the hoodie with a gentle pat. “And an education.” Maybe some deodorant too.

“Huh?” Honestly, this kid’s brains was probably melted by the sheer stench of urine in this dump. Still, Gajeel breathed in and out. Zen. Levy always told him to find his happy place.

“Go back to school. There are better places to be than in this business, kid.” Jeez, what was he, the brat’s mentor? “Go back to school or I’ll find a way to tie a knot with yer scrawny legs.” There. Let it never be said that he wasn't a good motivator: this kid looked ready to faint from sheer inspiration.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gajeel saw him. Tall, dark, and suspicious with his head down and eyes avoiding everyone in the warehouse. His hands fiddled within his pockets, an unlit cigarette resting on his lips. Typical asshole type.

Now, he had no tip on the big man behind the job, but this guy definitely looked the type. Plus, every few seconds, the guy looked around, nodding to a few cronies handling crates and boxes.

It had taken months to set this little raid up, even longer to learn that there was seismic activity on the streets. More drug busts, more thefts, more violence in general. Magnolia wasn’t that happy little city portrayed on the sun bleached welcome signs, but then again if the tourists fell for that little charade, shame on them.

But, this was his town, Levy’s town, his partner’s town. They’d be damned if they let some high horse punks try and run these streets outside the law. As Captain of the detective unit, Gajeel could proudly state he was going to mow these criminal’s asses like grass.

Still, his two knuckleheads were whispering on the mic now, stray words Gajeel was able to catch. “Poor guy...sad...appointment...stood up.”

Idiots. He used to flush the heads of morons like them in the toilets and then steal the lunch money they stole from somebody else. What was it called again? The social food chain?

It was then that the rays of understanding dawned on the undercover cop. He was still standing there, next to a kid about to wet his pants and break out in stress acne. The job was supposed to be inconspicuous, blending, and eventually cracking down. Yet, here he was daydreaming.

He left the pale kid behind, strolling along the stacks of crates stamped with different cities and countries, bold black ink on the wood grains. Cedar, Crocus, and even Balsam? Just where and who is pulling the strings to this size of an operation? Definitely not Captain Crunch over there. No real boss ever wore aviators from the Dollar Tree...the tag still on.

At that moment, time slowed, and their eyes met momentarily.

Levy always talked about those sappy books she tried to hide from her supervisor on the job. The ones where two main characters eyes lock and time slows, butterflies began to flutter in the stomach and a little thing called love at first sight took flight.

Well, first, this was a two take on the punk’s side. He looked at Gajeel, looked back down, and jerked his head back up to gape.

Second, the butterflies in Gajeel’s stomach were on fire and armored with iron steampunk spikes, chanting war cries as they sent the molten metal through his limbs as he felt the instinctual urge to surge into chase. They were blood thirsty, manly little butterflies.

Third, there was no love taking flight at first sight. It was Gajeel’s suspect taking flight at second glance, barreling through the warehouse like Levy did when she saw a spider.

Chicken, Gajeel thought as he swore, bolting after the guy with a few seconds lag.

“Okay, for the final one hundred points, and the honor of skipping dish duty for a week-” Gray said, beginning his drum roll of fingers on the dashboard, “-Natsu, you must partake in the Trial of Tenacity!”

Natsu grinned brightly, punching into his palm. “All my training has led up to this moment. Witness me!”

“Witnessed,” Gray agreed, unable to stop the smirk from cracking his face.

With that, Natsu inhaled deeply, puffing his chest out and tightening his belly. Then, he began to belch. “A, B, C, D-” he paused. “E,” he faltered, licking his lips and scowling at the parking meter outside. “F, G, H, I-”

“Idiots!” Gajeel’s voice crackled over the mic, “I got a runner!”

“Oh shi-” Gray hissed, fumbling with the door handle. He was also going to strangle whoever put a ‘purrr-fect’ sticker on the car’s handle. What were they, five and playing pretend cops n’ robbers?

Natsu was already on it, throwing his door open and lunging out with it. Too bad he didn’t account for the light pole next to the car. The noise of the door hitting the wooden pole was enough to make someone cringe, but the sound of Natsu’s forehead smacking into the window as a result was hilarious.

Gray almost peed himself as he stumbled, nearly tripping on the sidewalk at the noise. It was a shame. He expected a hollow thunk.

Disappointment aside, the solid burn of his previously cramped legs leaving trails of fire. It took about three strides to get momentum, but then Gray felt everything click.

Running wasn't really his thing. It never was until he joined the force. To be honest, Gray missed his high school days on the winter sports teams: skiing, snowboarding, ice skating, those kinds of things.

But, he hid the trophies for the ice skating in storage. Heaven forbid his partners finding out, even if he was graceful as fuck on ice skates.

“I'm coming around the back! He's gonna shoot out the east alleyway,” Gajeel’s voice cracked in the earpiece.

Which way was East? Which way was North? Dread filled his lungs. Never eat soggy wheat, but which direction was never!?

“Turn right at the crosswalk, icicle!”

There was Natsu, finally up and sprinting along with him. It didn't surprise him in the slightest.

Unlike him, Natsu was a track star before the force, a competitive force of nature that tended to be too competitive at times. Times like, but not limited to, taking the longest shower even when the hot water was exhausted.

“How's the head?” Gray managed to say between breaths, taking his turn too soon and scraping his shoulder on the corner of the brick building. Ouch. “Still have a brain?”

“Har Har. Just keep up, will ya?” Natsu replied, far more casual than he normally would. This was suspicious until he pulled ahead in a full sprint, feet barely staying on the ground for two seconds.

Gray would have been impressed...if it wasn't for the words Natsu was grunting into the mic as he went.

“Dude, is that the lyrics from Cops?”

Bad boys, bad boys...it was!

“Shut up! It makes me run faster!” Indeed, he was pulling ahead.

“Oi, morons! Here he comes!”

Instantly, a pair of plastic garbage bins tumbled out of the mouth of an alleyway to the right, sounds of shattering glass making a few pedestrians freeze. Then, out came the ugliest looking man Gray had seen in living memory.

White hair tangled in knots, skin leathery and eyes sunken in, an old man staggered over the rolling bins, took one look at them, and sprinted away with inhuman speed.

“What drugs is he on?” Natsu squawked, nearly tripping over the cans himself as he hurdled over them.

“Catch him and we’ll find out!” Gajeel hissed, sounding much more out of breath than they were. They warned him about skipping cardio day, but did he listen? Nooo.

Not that Natsu or himself would ever draw attention to the captain's lack of stamina. A laugh caught in his throat. Especially around Levy.

Old Man Nasty could run! Gray had a hard time believing that he made it down two blocks before they were halfway gaining on him.

Well, he made it harder by throwing people and garbage cans in their paths. Gray had already caught up with Natsu, neck and neck as they closed in.

They may have ran over a little old lady with a cane, everything was a blur so he wouldn't remember.

It took five blocks, but Old Man was still an old man. Gray took the lunge just as Natsu did, both tackling the guy so hard they crashed right into a wooden fruit stand.

“Ehey what are ya’ll doin’ tuh my peaches?!” someone shouted near Natsu’s ear. Of course, he was sort of busy wrangling their suspect down while Gray recited the Miranda Rights with handcuffs.

That was how Gajeel found them, knelt and covered in mashed peaches with an irate vendor screaming like an angered TV star. Maybe he was going to explode judging by the color of his face. He didn't want to risk watching to see if he did.

It became sort of a ritual after every bust. The Captain sighed, flashed his detectives a ‘we will discuss this later’ look, and forked over a wad of twenties from his pockets to silence the vendor before his migraine became nuclear.

Magnolia 77th precinct wasn't a glamorous place. The drywall was at least 49 years old, the tiles discolored from various cleaning supplies, the ceiling missing squares. It smelled like an old building, and it was. There were still secret closets from back in the prohibition era although they weren't used for illegal booze anymore.

Magnolia 77 wasn't pretty, it probably had some modern day code violations, but it was home. Natsu had always thought so. He crashed at his desk sometimes, ate meals from the vending machine, and shaved in the gym showers. By all accounts, that meant he lived here.

So, bringing in baddies to this ‘temple’ always gave him a sour taste in his mouth. Or, it could be the peach juice still oozing from his hair.

Erigor, the guy he and Gray suffered much pain and embarrassment to catch, seemed indifferent to the majesty of the lobby. Actually, he turned up his nose, revealing the bit of peach still lodged up there in the left bat cave. No respect for poor historical building upkeep. Criminals these days.

Gray held onto Erigor’s left arm, Natsu keeping tight on the right while Gajeel brought up the rear. It made this six legged, sideways cha cha line hard to fit through the revolving door, but with a little wiggling and sliding real smooth, they all ended up in the lobby in one piece, just peachy.

Then, when Natsu got a good look around, gravity faltered for just a moment. His mouth went dry, his heart thumping against his rib cage. For a blink, the Earth stopped turning.

Be still his heart.

There she was, in that white blouse and gray pencil skirt, a purple scarf around her neck today. Her arms were filled with folders, a briefcase slung by a strap over her shoulder.

She rose a golden eyebrow, an amused smirk crossing her glossed lips, “Wow. I see you boys got into a sticky situation.”

Damn, her quick quips never stopped taking his breath away.

Gajeel grunted, taking a moment to scoop some slime from the back of Gray’s uniform and flicked it at her playfully.

She dodged quickly, standing aside as the captain took Erigor from them and made the march up to the counter.

“This is no time for puns, Lucy...even good ones.” Gray said as he shook his arm and slopped peach guts all over the floor.

Natsu, however, pulled a half squashed peach from his trouser pocket, grinning stupidly as he offered it to her. “Sweets to the sweetie.”

Lucy, bless her, managed a small hint of amusement under her cringe. She pulled the folders close to her chest and Natsu felt unreasonable envy of the plastic and cardboard.

“Never been a fan of peaches, sorry.” She glanced down, probably to inspect that her shoes were not stepping in juice, missing Natsu’s deflated look.

“Well, I should get back to my office. Bye Gray...Natsu.” With a dainty hand, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, walking away with her head bowed and eyes to the floor in determination.

Assistant Deputy Attorney Lucy Heartfilia, someone that everyone loved to see around the precinct and every criminal learned to fear in the courts.

Once she was gone, Gray whistled lowly, placing a solemn hand on Natsu’s shoulder. “Sorry man. I think she only has love for justice and platonic relationships. You might not get anywhere with her.”

Natsu, still watching the doors where Lucy was last seen, closed his eyes and let a small smile cross his lips. With a steady hand, he slid the peach back into his pocket, ignoring the way it squelched. “Nah man. She has a lot of love to give but a lot to lose too. She’s worth waiting for,” he said softly, almost sagely as he tenderly sighed towards the doors.

Gray crinkled his nose. Over the years, Natsu was always a conundrum. One second he’s sappy and pretty damn perceptive, the next-

“Hey, wanna stick dirty socks in Elfman’s locker? He still hasn’t changed the locks~”

-the next, he was an absolute asshole.

“Sure, I got some that I’ve been perfecting for weeks.”

Hey, he never claimed to be a saint either!

“Another job well done, Redfox.”

Gajeel couldn’t help but let the grin cross his face as he shoved Erigor to Erza and Milliana, the best detention officers on the force, nearly laughing at Erigor’s stumble into the women’s hands. Truly, he had no beef being on the streets, little wimp.

“Milli, take him to the cells while I talk with Redfox.” Erza said evenly, in that commanding tone that was a basic being for her. Her red hair shimmered behind her as she turned, pressing the buzzer that unlocked the door to proceed further into the building. Milliana, gripping Erigor by the arm, hustled him through and disappeared behind barred windows.

“The chief and I are very impressed with your record lately. Although, we do have concerns about the two greenie detectives you cart around with you. Somehow, you get the job done despite being saddled with hooligans,” she said dismissively, eyes sharp as she took in the peach mush on the floor and still smeared on his vest.

The praise and backhanded snub at his team rolled off his back like water on a poncho, him not having the energy to get riled up in defense of his two rookies. After all, they did smear him in peach juice today.

“They were top notch in the academy, prodigies, hence achieving detective as soon as they entered the force. They are both excellent in hand to hand combat and sharp strategists. I wouldn’t expect someone outside this team to see it.” Okay, maybe the insults to his guys didn't go over as easily as water off his back. They were his morons, after all.

Erza, despite the rumor that she’d rip out your spine if you got snippy with her, smiled easily with a shrug. “As expected of the greatest team on the force, the Captain defends his team.” She sounded strangely pleased, as if he had passed a test of hers.

When her expression slipped into something more sly, then Gajeel felt nervous and twitchy. Sly Erza was worse than angry Erza.

“So...still coming over on Tuesday? With the skillet-?”

Oh. NO. Channeling his inner five year-old, he whipped his finger to his lip and shushed her. “Yer sworn to secrecy, Red. Remember?”

At his old academy nickname for her, she smirked. “Of course, Steel,” she replied easily.

He relaxed, opting to roll his shoulders out and groan at the cracks of the joints. “Well, I’m gonna round up my clowns and head out for the day. Maybe get them some shawarma. They did get the peach bomb worse than I did.”

She nodded, already turning away with a wave. “Alright, keep your phone on. We still have to book this guy on something that will stick.”

“Erigor’s down. Got busted by the cops.”

A man runs his fingers through his hair. “This news is very displeasing.”

With a bored manner, he picked at his shredded cuticles, licking his lips. “Then tell Lyon I expect his shipment on time. Remind him what will happen if my calendar suffers another...setback.”

The chair he sat in creaked as he shifted, shined shoes coming up to rest on a nearby desk.

“Which reminds me...take care of the loose end before he gets...chatty.”

#nalu #gajevy #gruvia #Natsu Dragneel #Lucy Heartfilia #levy mcgarden #Gajeel Redfox #juvia lockser #gray fullbuster #my writing #M77

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mvssmallow · 8 years ago

Photo

Cloudy With A Chance

Part 5: …of Seoul Fog.

Masterlist

Hanbin stares outside the window of his office. Pen tapping rhythmically on the messy notebook in front of him.

‘Daily Grind’ was a (ironically) weekly satirical and lifestyle magazine that he had taken a pay cut to work for. After 2 months of job interviews and being offered unpaid internships, Hanbin had gotten desperate and taken a lower paying position. That was 12 months ago. He’s grateful the chief editor took a shining to him and enjoyed his writing.

He’s also grateful that he allowed Hanbin to move into a shared office with the magazine’s star colummist. He wasn’t really looking to make any friends but Donghyuk had slowly and very surely wormed his way into his life. Their office was only on the 3rd floor but Hanbin still enjoyed staring out the window and being able to see the sky as he worked.

It was late afternoon and the sky was already a peach haze. It reminded him of the bathroom tiles at his parent’s old house but less gaudy. He picks at the wool of his soft beige jumper as he watches a group of pigeons fly from one office building to another. There weren’t many more accidental Summer-Clothes-In-Winter situations these days, partly because he made a conscious effort to check the weather report but mainly because Jiwon had gotten into the habit of sending him weather updates via badly typed texts in the morning before work.

This morning’s text: ‘cold AF! mght rain. wear smthing warm. xj’

He had no idea Jiwon was a morning person and he’s still not entirely sure if that’s down to preference or necessity. He knows that the car garage where Jiwon works opens at 7:30 but he keeps on forgetting to ask him why it’s so early.

Hanbin is definitely not a morning person. He isn’t exactly a night person either. He enjoys the time between the end of work and sleep because it was strictly his time to do as he pleased. If he’s feeling particularly motivated, he also loved twilight and the hours just before the sun rises. It makes him feel optimistic and he needs all the optimism he can get these days.

His thoughts are interrupted by the buzzing of his phone. It’s another message from Jiwon. ‘heater brke at work. its freezing. visit me when im in hospital for pneumnia. xj’

He snorts and types back: ‘can i have your snapbacks when you die?”

There’s an immediate reply: ‘only the blck ones. shit gotta get back. talk later. xj’

“You have the dopiest smile on your face right now.” He looks up as Donghyuk returns from his caffeine run and hands him a warm take-away cup.

Hanbin puts his phone down and waves a dismissive thanks. ‘I asked for tea, not redundant commentary. Save that for your lame articles.’

Donghyuk laughs as he sits at his own desk. ‘Oh you know my commentary comes free with the hot beverages.’

Hanbin takes a sip. “There’s milk in this.”

“Yup.”

“And vanilla.”

“Yup.”

“Why?”

Donghyuk gives him a cheerful smile. “It’s called a London Fog! I thought you might like it. As the young kids would say, “it suits your aesthetic”.

Donghyuk likes using air-quotes. Hanbin hates them.

“I hate air-quotes. And why can’t you just get me what I want? What’s with the daily surprises?”

Donghyuk rolls his eyes and gives Hanbin a withering look. “Do you like it?”

Hanbin says nothing.

Donghyuk nods, satisfied. “Right. Then stop being so dramatic about some cow and a vanilla bean. It’s good to try new things.”

“Why can’t you just say ‘milk’ like a normal person?” Hanbin regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth.

“BECAUSE! I’m a writer! We need to exercise our vocabulary and literary devices! It’s like going to the gym but for your mind! I’m basically like an athlete. You’re more like….Garfield.”

“The lazy cartoon cat? You know I’m more of a dog person.” Hanbin chuckles and suddenly remembers that Jiwon is deathly afraid of cats for some reason.

“Okay you have that creepy smile on your face again. What’s up with you?” Donghyuk eyes him suspiciously as he takes a sip of his coffee. Hanbin knows he’s running scenarios in his head. It’s when Donghyuk’s eyes light up that Hanbin braces himself for the theories. “Ohhh. Are you having a text relationship? Oh wait! Is it someone in our office?!”

Hanbin grimaces at the choice of words. “What? No.”

The problem with Donghyuk is not just his dictionary brain or Mr Congeniality title in the office but the speed and accuracy of his observations. He was, as they liked to say in capital letters, The Perceptive One. Hanbin always thought he was good at reading people but then he met Donghyuk and realised that he wasn’t anywhere near his level. He remembers when Donghyuk had bought him green tea on their first caffeine run because, “You didn’t seem like a coffee person, too much nervous energy.”

It made Hanbin even more anxious but after 6 months together, he’s learnt how to deal with the panic attacks.

Right now, Donghyuk has a small smile on his face. “I bet you do….” he says in a bright sing-song voice. “I know these things Hanbin. I’m almost never wrong so you might as well just tell me.”

Hanbin looks down at his notebook and turns a page over. “There’s nothing to tell. It’s just texts from my mum about my sister.”

Donghyuk wheels his chair over to Hanbin’s desk and stops when they face each other. “You know you’re horrible at lying right? You get all twitchy.”

“I do not.” He scratches his neck but drops his hand down immediately when he realises what he’s doing.

Donghyuk doesn’t miss it and his grin just gets wider by the minute. “So. Are they cute?” He wiggles his eyebrow suggestively as he sits back in his chair and tugs at his multiple earrings.

Hanbin scowls. “We are not having this conversation.” He picks up his pen.

“Oh please. Suddenly you want to get back to work now? Come on Hanbin, it’s getting so boring around here. There hasn’t been any news since we got this office.”

“If I tell you, will you promise to never ask me about it again? Like until we retire.”

Donghyuk leans his elbows on Hanbin’s desk and rests his head on his palms. “Of course.”

“Okay. So it’s a guy. We’re just friends. We’re not dating. I don’t date. The end.”

Donghyuk’s eyes widen comically again as he gapes at Hanbin.

Hanbin starts scribbling lines on his notebook. He’s nervous but knows there’s no reason to be. He’s sure Donghyuk has figured out his preferences by now. If he can figure out his caffeine preference then he’s probably already figured out Hanbin’s human preference too.

“Wow…” Donghyuk says finally, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes. “Do you have a photo?”

Hanbin laughs. “No. I’m definitely not showing you!”

“But why? Please? My life is so empty and sad and lonely. I need to live vicariously through you.”

Hanbin shakes his head. “Okay, everything you just said is a total lie.”

“My mind needs constant stimulation. PLEASE HANBIN!”

Hanbin looks at him in alarm, eyes trying to ignore the inquisitive stares from their colleagues outside. “Oh my god! Okay! Just keep your voice down. Geez. And you call me dramatic.”

He scrolls through the photos of Jiwon on his phone until he finds one without a grimace or weird hand signs. He finally stops at a photo he took back in June’s tattoo shop. Jiwon had just turned to face the camera when Hanbin had captured it, there was no faked bravado or acting cool, it was just Jiwon with a slight look of surprise on his face.

Hanbin hesitates but eventually holds the phone screen out towards Donghyuk.

Donghyuk peers at the phone for a second then his eyes flick back and forth between Hanbin and the photo. “Are you serious?”

Hanbin frowns. “What? What’s wrong with him?”

“Oh where does one even start with Kim Jiwon?” Donghyuk murmurs under his breath.

“Wait. You know him?” Hanbin questions in shock. “How?”

“Well firstly, I know everybody.” Donghyuk states matter-of-factly. Hanbin rolls his eyes, even though he knows it’s not far from the truth. “Secondly, remember when I did a piece on imported american muscle cars coming to Seoul? I went to his garage.”

“And……?” Hanbin prompts.

“And….he’s a cool guy. Just not really someone I thought you’d be interested in.”

Hanbin knows he’s walking right into Donghyuk’s trap but curiosity gets the better of him. “Okay, what does that mean?”

Donghyuk drinks the rest of his coffee slowly. Deliberately.

“DONGHYUK!” Hanbin hisses and looks at him with all the frustration he can muster.

Donghyuk doesn’t smile though. “Promise me that you won’t get mad?”

And that’s when Hanbin knows that his day is going to end badly. “Okay. Promise.”

Donghyuk hesitates. “He seems nice Hanbin. Really. I just heard that he was dating someone here but he still has a girlfriend back in America. I’m sure it’s just a rumour that someone made up about him and you guys probably already know.”

Speechless, Hanbin just stares at him as his heart sinks and his brain short circuits from processing the information. The silence stretches to the point where Donghyuk starts looking increasingly worried.

“Oh god, I thought you knew. I’m not implying anything! Just thought you should know what people are saying since you guys are friends now. Hanbin? Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have told you. I’m an idiot and you should honestly just ignore me. It’s probably not even true. You know what gossip is like….” He can hear Donghyuk rambling on but it just sounds like a muffled voice through water.

He tells himself not to dwell on disappointment because part of him always knew this would happen. People like Jiwon just don’t get involved with people as boring as him. But life is nothing but a bag of twisted irony; even when you know something is inevitable, it can still hurt you twice as much when it arrives. Preparing for an oncoming trainwreck doesn’t make the collision any less painful.

He swallows audibly and shakes his head. “It’s okay. There’s nothing to be upset about. We’re just friends. You don’t have to apologise. I’m not mad, I just didn’t know.” He offers Donghyuk a small smile which he knows comes across as blatantly fake.

Donghyuk opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it. Instead, he reaches over to grab their empty cups to throw into the trash. “I’m really sorry Hanbin….I shouldn’t have said anything.” Donghyuk says quietly before wheeling his chair back to his desk.

Hanbin just nods as he opens his laptop, stares at the black screen and waits for it to wake up from sleep.

#Cloudy With A Chance #i didn't do new gifs for this because i kinda like the old photoset #text #double b #hanbin #bobby

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