#sorry its like half recycled jokes i make ALL THE TIME | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

leejeongz · 4 years ago

Text

cravity reaction to you giving them the silent treatment

🔅thank you for reading my work and following! and than you for requesting! i wrote this like giving them the silent treatment, as you can tell, because i’m not sure what other context you would ignore them in🥺 i hope you don’t mind! and not all of them are serious hehe🔅

serim:

reason for the silent treatment: you were jealous when you saw him talking to the stylists and sitting real close to them

he tried his damned hardest to not give in to you. this lasted for quite a while this time actually, an hour maybe? then he started feeling empty. he hadn’t hugged you or bugged you for a whole hour, even you were getting concerned at this point. he came over to you while you were washing your bowl and pan from lunch, standing behind you for a few seconds before deciding to poke your cheek. you tried to ignore him at first, then you tried swatting his hand away.

“i’m not moving it until you talk to me!” he exclaimed. you knew the annoying smile he’d have on his face right now that you couldn’t resist so you chose not to look at him, instead you concentrated on putting the wet dishes on the drying rack. “i can do this all day”

he really wasn’t lying, you wouldn’t put that past him, so you just chose to give up, it was easier than having a clingy serim around you all day. (you get that anyway but what can u do?)

“you should eat” you said quietly. serim smiled at you in response and removed his finger.

“you’re right, maybe i will go grab something with the stylists” he joked, risking another hour of the silent treatment. he was so lucky that you could take a joke.

allen:

reason for the silent treatment: he forgot your 1 year anniversary (this got a lil deep for some reason, kinda angsty, just a warning)

he started by giving you as much attention as possible. usually you’d be loving the skinship and cuddles, but right now you didn’t want to even see his face. you swatted his hands away and stormed off to your room. he sat back on the sofa, eyes and mouth both wide. he’d never seen you like this before. his head soon fell into his hands, which rested on his knees. once the first tear fell, it was soon followed by dozens more. it made him even weaker knowing you were probably crying too. he didn’t know whether to come to you or not but he decided to stay put for a little longer. after a few minutes, he saw your feet across the carpet and lifted his head, apologising profusely as he did so. you sat beside him, and looked at him, which he reciprocated almost immediately. he grabbed your hands instinctively but not before wiping a tear from your right cheek.

“do you care?” you asked.

“of course i care. i care about you, about us, i care a lot.” he pleaded, tears starting to burn at his cheeks.

“okay” you said, licking a tear from lips and nestling into his side.

he wrapped his arm around you and sniffled some more before asking if there was any way he could make it up to you.

jungmo:

reason for the silent treatment: you failed an exam and you think it’s because he kept distracting you while revising

he couldn’t help himself, he just HAD to follow you around like a lost puppy. he tried his best to apologise, knowing it was the easiest thing to do even if he wasn’t guilty, but it just made you ignore him even more, not even giving him the advantage of reading your face. honestly, his incessant following was cute, but he could never know that.

“y/n please” he begged from behind you as you made your way to the bathroom. “don’t make me come in there too” he tried to make light of the situation.

you turned and stood against the closed bathroom door, now looking at him from across the hallway. you raised your eyebrow and he started to talk once again.

“i didn’t realise what i was doing, i just wanted to spend time with you, i will never do it again, if i do you can shout at me, i’m kidding please don’t do that ,i would cry, i know you wouldn’t ever-“ you stopped him with a kiss. you hated how he had you WHIPPED for him, but you wouldn’t really have it any other way.

“i won’t you idiot, although i may accidentally purposely back my chair into you, gently of course” you joked “now can i please go in here… alone?”

woobin:

reason for the silent treatment: he used your toothbrush

“you changed yours to the exact same colour as mine, it was going to happen on day anyway” he announced, rolling his eyes while walking to the cupboard to get himself a different toothbrush. “where are they?” he shouted to you.

you chose not to respond and that’s when he knew he was currently experiencing the dreaded silent treatment. normally he’d be quite thankful for some peace and quiet but the circumstances weren’t great so...

“oh brilliant, how mature of you” he slammed the door to the cupboard shut, still being careful not to damage it though. “you know it’s not going to get you anywhere” he once again rolled his eyes. “i’m going to my room, see you at dinner, sweetheart”. and that’s exactly when you saw him next. he was so stubborn sometimes, you had to give in else you’d never talk to him again.

“here” you tossed him a new toothbrush while he was close to the sink.

“this is still the same colour th-“

“ITS ROMANTIC WOOBIN” you shouted.

“from one extreme to another, clearly” he laughed, throwing you the toothbrush back. “now how about we be romantic in that restaurant down the street?”

wonjin:

reason for the silent treatment: he ate without you

“i swear i won’t do it again” he pleaded in his final words before giving up and slumping his way to his room, leaving you cooking your meal for one.

you wouldn’t normally be this mad about him eating without you, you didn’t even live together, it was just that today you’d planned to have dinner together but you were an hour late due to traffic. surely he could have waited an extra 60 minutes, right?

wonjin threw himself on the bed, sulking for 5 seconds then convincing himself he was in the right all along and acting like nothing was wrong. he pulled out his phone and started playing a game, one that he knew he would spend hours on if he started playing it. half way through the first round, something clicked in his brain. why was he sitting here neglecting you when he owes an apology? he composed himself and made his way back out to the kitchen, ready to start his begging for forgiveness.

“okay so sometimes... sometimes you can be unreasonable” great start, you thought, rolling your eyes “but on this occasion, i think your reaction is justified. take as long as you want, i’ll be standing right here” he said, mimicking a “rooting in place” action by twisting his feet on the laminate flooring.

minhee:

reason for the silent treatment: he accidentally recycled a piece of your homework

“how was i supposed to know you needed this stupid map?” he questioned. but you didn’t respond. instead you just went to his room and sulked, in silence. he followed and stood in the doorway, firing questions at you for the next 5 minutes before huffing and leaving you to sulk alone. he knew he was the mature one here, but he still felt guilty for what he did so 10 minutes later he came back to you and tried again, this time calmer and more willing to listen.

“i can help you do it again” he insisted “but i’m not that great at drawing maps” he admitted. you turned away from him. he probably thought you were just continuing the silent treatment but really, you were trying your hardest not to laugh.

“you know i just printed that out right? i didn’t draw that” you whispered, giving in.

“are you saying i just endured the silent treatment for a map that took seconds to print out? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” he shouted jokingly, sitting at his computer and bringing up an identical map. “here, print.” he grabbed it off the printer and realised yet another issue “you also used MY printer ink. i should have give myself the silent treatment for wasting ink like that.”

hyeongjun:

reason for the silent treatment: he killed you first in among us

hyeongjun thought it was a joke at first, it was just a game after all it's not that serious.

“you can still do your ghost tasks” he mimicked.

you did NOT find this funny. he made you look like a fool in front of your friends, surely your boyfriend isn’t supposed to kill you first, you thought. you pressed the home button on your phone, automatically leaving the game, and turned your phone back to portrait. you scrolled through your home screens for a while, looking like you were doing something important in hopes it would make hyeongjun jealous but he was too engrossed in the game. it wasn’t until you threw your phone on the bed and got up that he realised you’d left.

“you left the game? why? oh you’re gonna get snacks? can you get me those chocolate jazzle things you bought for us please?” he asked, still engrossed in the game.

you rolled your eyes and let out a very loud “ugh” which he didn’t even bat an eyelid at. you returned with the chocolates in your hand which got his attention, but instead of handing them to him, you ate them and looked like you were enjoying them.

“i’m SO sorry i killed you y/n” he rolled his eyes as you did earlier, but you pretended to not hear him, just as he did.

this went on until he, as the imposter, lost the game, and you couldn’t help but laugh in his face.

taeyoung:

reason for the silent treatment: he laughed at you for getting scared during a horror movie

you hit his chest and got up in a huff. how dare he laugh at you when you were genuinely scared?! the sound of his laugh was always nice, always except now, it just annoyed you. you went to the fridge to grab some of his snacks, the first time you did this without politely asking for permission. he never minded that you wanted food, he wished you’d just get them yourself, you didn’t have to ask, what was his was yours, so you took advantage of that but it really didn’t feel right.

“hey the movie hasn’t finished yet!” he shouted, turning over and seeing you scan his fridge. “there’s nothing in there, i’m the only snack in this place” he said, flipping back over. “oh and you, of course”. you narrowed your eyes and bobbed your head sarcastically behind him, as if you were mimicking what he said. you sat back down again empty handed, this time sitting on the single chair that was far from him.

“oh what’s wrong? you think you’re strong enough to sit alone? you don’t need me anymore?” he laughed once again. you just concentrated on the screen, your heart beating faster than ever before, hoping no scares were coming up.

“okay okay i’ll stop. now please come over here and cuddle me because i think he’s gonna do something again and i don’t want you to be scared on your own.”

you contemplated his preposition for a little, the tv making your decision for you when the music started getting louder and you felt the need for someone’s arms around you.

seongmin:

reason for the silent treatment: he spent the whole of your day off napping

“what’s for dinner?” he asked sleepily. his eyes opened to your figure, stood over him, your arms were folded and lips were sealed shut in a sort of angry pout. “what?” he questioned.

you yanked you duvet from him and threw it on the floor now giving you the perfect opportunity to grab your teddy that he’d slept with and leave. but that boy was gripping on to your teddy for dear life it seemed, he wasn’t letting go. “what are you doing? i can’t explain if you won’t tell me what’s wrong. and i’m not giving up lolly llama until you tell me”.

“just give me the llama seongmin” you broke your silence.

“is it because i slept all day?” when the words left his mouth, you stopped fighting for the teddy, you stopped leaning over him, you stopped trying to hide what had been getting to you all day. “because if it is i’m sorry, i woke up today with a really bad headache and i didn’t want to worry you.” he pointed to the tablets and headache strips on the side.

“is it-” you paused to look at him “is it better now?” you asked, knowing the best treatment for a headache was sleep.

“a lot better” he smiled in your direction “i am prepared to pull an all nighter with my favourite person now”

gifs aren’t mine

#cravity #cravity imagines #cravity reactions #serim #allen #jungmo #woobin #wonjin #minhee #hyeongjun #taeyoung #seongmin

224 notes · View notes

mystaracrosstheuniverse · 4 years ago

Text

Last Piece: JB

title. Last Piece pairing. GOT7′s JB x Reader genre. slice of life, romance, attempts at comedy, angst warnings. cursing, jb being a cute cat dad, brief mentions of bullying and anxiety summary. As an English teacher from abroad, you get a lot of perks. One of the best ones is that you live in an apartment for free. Another perk seems to be the elusive, attractive man who lives two floors above you… Though his cats seem to find their way to you a lot. And so does his mail, which makes you travel to his place pretty often regardless of whether he wants to see you or not. new beginnings masterlist. part one. out of [undecided]

______________________________________________________________ You never wanted to see another box again. Or a suitcase. Or anything involving packaging goods. You were done with moving, but as you looked around your new apartment, you couldn’t help but be proud. Finally, you were here. In Seoul, South Korea, beginning your lifelong dream of being a EFL teacher and returning to the city that had captured your heart when you came to study abroad years ago. The past few weeks had been overwhelming, trying to reconnect with old friends, connecting with your fellow teachers, and getting ready to start teaching at your school. But as you took out the last of your recycling, you could finally say you were settled in and ready for the year in front of you. On your way back up, you ran into one of your neighbors, a kind older woman who welcomed you in the first weeks of you arriving. She smiled at you, “Hello dear! All moved in?” “Mhmm! Finally. I can’t wait to actually find out more about this building. I feel bad that I’ve only met you and not anyone else I’m living next to.” You admitted, rubbing the back of your neck. You hadn’t really prioritized getting to know more about your neighbors or the building; you were too focused on getting your apartment together. “If meeting people your age is your goal, I’d go to the rooftop,” The older woman suggested, “There’s a community area there and I’m sure I’ve seen some young folks heading up there every now and again.” Well that was interesting. You found yourself following her suggestion after thanking her and bidding goodbye, hopping off the stairs to reach the roof. And you couldn’t say you blamed people your age for coming up here once you reached the top. It was really pretty, with a great view of the city and comfy seating and a fire pit. You could see yourself and your friends cozying up with blankets and a few drinks up here. You’re almost too busy admiring the view and seeing if you can pinpoint some places to visit on your weekends to dismiss small mewling sounds coming from the door of the stairwell. The unfamiliar noise caught your attention and you went over to check it out. Sure enough, there was a small cat looking up at you with big eyes, meowing never ceasing. You leaned down to let the cat smell your hand, eyes immediately drawn to the red collar resting around its neck. “So you’re not a stray... Where’s your owner, little guy?” You asked softly, not wanting to spook the cat sniffing at your hand. Deciding you were okay, he snuggled up to your hand, allowing you to bring him into your arms and look around the stairwell. The thought to go to the front desk and ask about who owns pets had barely crossed your mind when you heard a male voice call out from the stairwell below. “Odd??? Odd?? Where are you??” Based on the way the kitty perked up at the voice and name, you figured you found the owner of the little guy. So you followed the voice, and not even a full set of stairs down were you faced with a very distressed, erratic looking young man. At the sight of the cat (Odd, was it?) in your arms, the relief that visibly took over his form was almost cute. You took the time to take in the owner’s features. Monolid eyes with a couple of distinct moles, piercings, and a dark mullet with shoulders as wide as you’ve ever seen before, he didn’t seem like the type to be cooing and currently chastising over this small cat. “How’d you get out?” He wasn’t even talking to you, fully focused as he leaned down to quietly talk to Odd. It was... a little awkward and so you carefully pushed the cat towards his own arms, finally bringing his attention to you. “Oh sorry,” He took Odd from you, holding him like a baby, “Thanks for finding him, his siblings were worried. I was worried... obviously...” His expression turned sheepish, once again surprising you at how awkward this man seemed to be despite his appearance. You loved animals, so you couldn’t help but ask, “Oh? More pets?” At the mention of his other animals, he smiled. “Yeah, four others. They’re all trouble makers.” “If this one,” You gestured to Odd, “Is anything like the others, I’d say you have your hands full as a cat dad.” “They keep me on my toes for sure... But they’re my kids so I put up with it.” The two of you stood there in silence for a little while, not meeting each other’s eyes. You cursed yourself for being so awkward with the first potential friend that wasn’t a fellow teacher. “So, uh.... yeah.” You wanted to hit yourself. “I’m... Y/N, by the way. I just moved here.” “Jaebum.” He nodded, careful to keep Odd in his arms as he bowed. You returned the gesture before deciding the awkward atmosphere was too much. “It was nice to meet you, Jaebum. I’ll see you around?” He nodded, waving you off as he went back to his hall and you returned down the stairs to your own apartment. Once inside you banged your head against the wall. You always struggled with making friends because of your anxiety, and not everyone was as kind or patient to you as Jaebum had been in that first encounter. You were determined to show him that next time, you weren’t awkward and he could be your friend. ______________________________ As it turns out, you didn’t show him. A week or so goes by and you fall into a routine of going to school, planning, and sometimes visiting friends. Occasionally you catch Jaebum getting mail or walking out at the same time, but each time you keep clamming up and unable to do more than exchange small talk. Which, judging by his barely concealed grimances, he hated. But he was polite and you honestly were just hoping that you’d pull yourself together and be able to hold a conversation that wasn’t laced with uncomfortable awkwardness. You got your chance, though, when getting your mail after school. Your eyes lit up seeing the package, only to frown and pout when you saw it wasn’t even for you. It did, however bring you a little excitement to see it’s for Jaebum (with JB in big English letters next to his name, you guessed a nickname) and you saw the apartment number listed in the address. You considered it for only a moment before going up the stairs. After all, he’d want his package right? Coming up to the door, you hear music from his apartment. You briefly wondered what kind of genres he liked the most before knocking, trying to be a good neighbor (and hopefully friend after this). There wasn’t a response so you knocked again, a bit louder in case he couldn’t hear you over the music. “I’m coming, can’t you just be patient Yug-- Oh. Y/N.” Jaebum swung open the door, looking a little irritated and tired. Headphones slung around his neck, traces of stubble from not shaving recently, and the bags under his eyes only confirm your suspicions that he hadn’t slept. “Rough night?” You meekly offer, only to want to throw yourself off a cliff a moment later. Really? That’s what you decide to open with? No wonder he’s not your friend. He rolled his eyes at your question, but nods and gave you a look that clearly said “What do you want and why are you here?”. You certainly didn’t need to be told twice, even with body language. Barely missing a beat, you held up the package in your arms. “So, uh, I don’t know if this will help, but here! This got delivered to me by accident.” The second he saw the postage label his eyes brightened and a grin overtook his face as he grabbed it from your arms. You managed to ignore the small jump in your chest at the sight of his genuine smile. “This must be from Mark! He’s my friend, he lived here for a long time but now he’s back in the U.S... I really miss him but I know he’s doing well.” Jaebum rambled, his eyes focused on the package but once flicking up to you, as if to see if you were paying attention. Is he... initiating conversation? With you? “I’m glad you can keep in touch this way, I understand how it feels to miss friends far away...” You managed to get out, and his smile turned to you. Oh... He has a nice smile. You wondered if he did it often with friends. You hoped to find out. A small meow captured your attention, and you look down to see Odd and this other fluffier cat coming to inspect you and what their owner was holding. Just as you were about to ask Jaebum about Odd, the other cat swatted at Odd’s face and pretty much pushed him out the door towards you. Ah... You see how he got out now. “Nora Stop! You can’t do that to your siblings!” Jaebum immediately put the package down, picking up Nora to scold her. You stifled a laugh, seeing him be such a dad with his cats. He wasn’t joking when he called them his kids. Odd didn’t even try to go back inside, meowing loudly and coming up to you, rubbing himself against your leg as if to gain sympathy. It worked. You picked him up gently, rubbing his ears and letting him relax in your arms. When there was suddenly no scolding, you looked up to see Jaebum looking at you intensely, making you shift a little as your anxiety spiked. Did you do something wrong? “Odd really likes you. Huh.” Was all he said, a small half smile coming on his face as he looked at you. Suddenly the walls felt like they were way too close and you needed space immediately. Putting the cat down, you made sure he went back into the apartment and cleared your throat, trying not to make eye contact as you said, “Okay! Sorry to bother you, I’ll just leave it at the door next time --” You’re already making your way down the hall when he calls your name, making you pause and count the seconds before your fight or flight instinct forced you to run to the safety of your apartment. “It’s not a bother. If my cats like you, I like you. See you around, Y/N.” He waved, his voice almost gentle as he closed the door to his apartment. Maybe... he didn’t hate you after all.

#a new beginning #got7 x y/n #got7 x reader #jb x reader #jinyoung x reader #mark tuan x reader #jackson x reader #youngjae x reader #bambam x reader #yugyeom x reader #got7 au #got7 scenarios #got7 fic #last piece

68 notes · View notes

peaches-writes · 4 years ago

Text

party night

prompt 2: “But it looks like it’s enjoying itself!”

member: minho / lee know wc: 1.9k genre: fluff, bakeneko au, neighbor au, the crackiest fic you’ll ever read in a while warning: explicit language note: finally it’s done it took a while and it’s not even good it’s so trippy sldjflskdf but i’ve been slumped with work rawr + idk i didnt do my research im so sorry this was quick bc i still hav hw lskdfjsldjk

“Swswswswsws...” You hiss continuously as you point your flashlight into the darkness of the forestry ahead, turning your head to your neighbor after. “Ji, what’s your pet’s name again? It might respond if we called it by its name, you know. It’s been five minutes since we’ve been looking for it.”

“P-Pet? I don’t—”Jisung briefly stops walking and squints his eyes at you, accidentally pointing his own phone’s flashlight to your face when you turn around to face him at immediately noticing his pause. You hold your free hand up to your face in instinctive response to his accidental action, wincing in pain of the bright light to which Jisung guiltily heaves a sigh at. That was close! “A-Ah, I mean!—L-Lee Know! His...yeah, the cat’s name is Lee Know!”

You furrow your eyebrows and bring your hand down once Jisung apologizes and points his flashlight elsewhere, a confused frown settling on your lips. “Lee Know? You named him?”

“Y-Yeah?” He raises his own eyebrows curiously, jogging up the remaining distance to you when you beckon for him to continue walking deeper into the forest with you. It’s time like these when the eco-friendly agenda our village has going on is such a hassle, Jisung groans internally to himself, Minho could be anywhere in this forest...that idiot. “Why’d you ask?”

You shrug, flinching when a distant rustling faintly goes through your ears. When you point your flashlight towards its direction, however, you only see, much to your disappointment, a raccoon scurrying away. “It’s just—and don’t get offended!—Lee Know sounds a bit of a choice for a cat’s name.” You explain sheepishly, looking away in case he does get offended. “I actually thought Minho named him...given his generally weird tendencies. Maybe he got tired of naming pets cutely like Soonie, Doongie, and Dori or something so I thought, you know...”

Jisung snickers under his breath as you explain, frantically shaking his head and waving his hands when you surprisingly hear and ask him about it. Tell that to him when you see him, he so badly wants to tell you but he opts to quietly continue looking for his roommate instead, mirroring you and pointing his flashlight towards every inch of the path.

“It’s that ridiculous, huh?” He jokes, to which your eyes widen at. When he peers over your shoulder and notices this, he immediately lets out a hearty laugh. “Don’t worry, it’s cool. I think it’s ridiculous for a cat too.”

Your shoulders unintentionally relax at this and you muster up a laugh as well. “It sounds like a stage name.”

“It’s swag, apparently.”

After five more minutes of walking (and not much progress in finding clues as to where the cat went but misleading footprints of foxes and more raccoons), you stop right under the warning sign your village’s Homeowners Association, placed right before the forest’s restricted area. “Nothing.” You turn around on your surroundings twice before concluding against the stillness of the night and the distant cricketing, facing Jisung again with a disappointed expression. “We can’t go beyond the subdivision limits, Ji. I’m so sorry.”

Jisung glances between you and the angry ‘No Trespassing’ sign in thought, biting his lip down as he ponders on what to do next. It’s either he risks having you see more than one supernatural creature tonight and drag you with him past village limits or he pretends to go back to the village with you then run all the way back to the other side of the forest and continue looking for his escaped roommate. Then why did I ask Y/N to help me look for Minho in the first place? Jisung asks himself as he scratches his head in the hopes that his last functioning braincell could make a quick decision.

“Ji?” You elbow him gently when he takes too long to think. Only then does he notice that you’ve already taken a step back from the village limits, body twisted and facing the path back. “Let’s go back, maybe it’s better looking for Lee Know in the morning.”

“A-Ah, but—” Jisung raises his free hand, as if reaching out to you and tugging you back. Before he could finish his thought, however, he sees a brilliant white light reflect back in your eyes and when he turns around, his eyes widen at colorful lanterns approaching from the trees. “Oh, shit...”

“What the fuck is that?” You ask in a whisper, instinctively going back to Jisung’s side in fear. When the lanterns draw nearer, you start making out figures of raccoons, foxes, rabbits, and cats dancing on their hind legs. “What the hell?”

Jisung slaps a hand up to his forehead and purses his lips, gritting his teeth hardly in frustration. Too late, he thinks to himself as he turns to you, eyes wide and mouth agape in bewilderment. “Y/N, listen to me—”

But again, he’s cut off by a certain orange and white cat catching your attention, waving at you with its paws. “Hi, Y/N!” Minho waves at you casually in his cat form, his smile peeking out of the rainbow towel on his head. “We’re doing a conga line around the forest if you want to join!”

“I...” You freeze, leaning back in confusion. “T-That’s...Lee Know?”

“Um...” Jisung turns to you, meeting your unreadable expression. You look simultaneously shocked, horrified, and curious but with a small smile threatening to slip into your features. “I can explain!”

“He sounds like—”

“My roommate, Minho. Yeah, um...” Jisung scratches the nape of his neck again, instinctively stepping in front of your view to block the sight of dancing forest animals. “Listen, it’s not what it looks like! Minho, he’s...”

“Jisung—I mean, wilder things have happened in college—”

“Yeah but—” Jisung stops halfway, staring back at you as if you’ve grown a second head. “You’re not—you’re not freaked out?”

“So you are admitting that your roommate is half-cat?”

“He’s a bakeneko...”

“Bakeneko, sure, okay.” You repeat, rolling your eyes. “As I was saying, you dragged me out here at 2 AM to look for ‘your cat,’ knowing there’s a slight risk of me finding out who the cat actually is, then you react like this when it does happen? I’m surprised, of course, but you really should’ve thought about that.”

A part of Jisung heaves a sigh of relief but another part of him panics even further which is only amplified with the music growing louder behind him as more animals pass by. “Yeah, well, I did thought about that but I really needed help looking for Minho because he left without a note and I didn’t expect that he’d be out here partying tonight!”

This time, it’s you slapping a hand to your face. “Jesus Christ, and here I thought you guys were at least sharing one braincell.” You sigh, to which Jisung immediately protests at. You ignore, him, however, and gesture for the growing line of dancing animals. “So, should we stop him? But, then, it looks like it’s enjoying itself! “But it looks like it’s enjoying itself!—I mean, Minho! Minho looks like he’s enjoying himself.”

Jisung opens his mouth to speak but, for the second time tonight, he’s accidentally cut off again by Minho, this time by said roommate suddenly materializing on his shoulders. “Are here to pick me up?” Minho asks him, the way his normal human voice comes out of his cat form momentarily surprising you from the corner of his eyes and catching his attention. “Oh, hi, Y/N! Sorry, I didn’t mean for you to see me like this! Ya, Han Jisung, why did you bring Y/N along?”

“Because you just left the house without telling me where you’re going, dumbass! How would I know if you weren’t suddenly kidnapped or something!” Jisung complains in response, flicking Minho’s forehead. “And get off my shoulder, fatass, you’re so heavy. Have you been eating spirits food again?”

You clear your throat awkwardly, waving at the two boys before they could engage in a full-on argument. “Yeah, I’m still here, guys?”

Minho and Jisung glance back at you then to each other, as if in contemplation. You raise an eyebrow nervously at this.

“Hyung, is it okay that Y/N saw you?” Jisung asks Minho in a hushed whisper.

“Do I really look fat tonight?” Minho frowns, to which Jisung groans at.

“Dude, come on, I’m asking you a matter of your security and you ask me if you’re looking fat.”

“Because Y/N saw me!”

Jisung sighs. “Fine, then, yes you do...you look like a really really fat cat tonight.” He answers reluctantly, to which Minho pouts even deeper at. “It must be those brownies that other cat, Felix, is always baking at these parties.”

Minho then immediately hops off of Jisung, walking over to you and encircling your ankles once. “Alright, then, I guess, Y/N, you should see me like this on another time, when I’m looking cuter! You’ll have to forget everything you saw tonight, okay? I can’t have my crush seeing me as a fat cat!”

“W-What?” You try stepping away from Minho’s circling movements but before you could even get a foot out, you already start feeling lightheaded until your vision’s fully clouded in nothing but white.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N!” Minho’s voice echoes in your ears before you.

Jisung is waiting for you by the fences separating your houses the next day, a seemingly rehearsed smile on his face. From what you can hazily remember of last night (which is oddly few, you’ve noticed), you last saw him banging his head against the pillars of his host family’s front porch at dinner time because the Internet connection at his place won’t let him pass his homework.

“Good morning, Ji?” You greet him as you water the plants in your front garden, unintentionally coming off as questioning. “You look...happy. Did you get to pass that homework of yours?”

The boy nods happily as he organizes the recyclables he’s supposed to take out. “Yep, passed it on time.”

You nod, opening your mouth to speak only to be interrupted by an orange and white cat emerging from your garden’s potted sunflowers. “Oh, hi!” You greet the cat, instinctively crouching down to scratch its ears to which he purrs positively to. You don’t catch it but Jisung heaves a sigh of relief when you don’t seem to recognize Minho or have any recollection of last night. “And who are you supposed to be, hm? You’re so adorable!”

From the corner of your eyes, Jisung frowns at Minho before shaking his head and answering you, “O-Oh, that’s—Lee Know, the new house cat! My host family brought him in just—just last night.”

“Just last night?” You ask, briefly looking up at Jisung and catching his frown turning into a sheepish smile. You try catching his reaction to your question but the cat brings a paw up to your hand and regains your attention again. “Didn’t they come home at like 4 PM yesterday, though? I even greeted Mr. and Mrs. Lee and I don’t remember seeing them with this cat.”

Shit, Jisung curses himself, glaring at Minho again who only sticks his tongue out discreetly at him, I was doing so well! “W-Well, Mr. Lee went out at around 9 PM, I think, when you were already inside, then he came back with the cat. It’s a stray, basically.”

You nod at this, smiling at the cat again. “Aren’t you too cute to be a stray cat, though?” You coo, making Minho smile and nuzzle his whiskers more into your hands. “And you remind me a lot of Ji’s roommate, Minho, too. Have you met him? He’s a bit of a weirdo but he’s...cute too, I guess.”

Minho so badly wants to open his mouth and protest halfway when you called him a weirdo but he puts up the facade anyway and goes around you once again. He’ll have to bring it up to you next time, when he’s human.

“Look, Ji, he likes me!” You point out excitedly to which Jisung only musters up a small smile. You then pet the cat’s head once more before standing up to continue watering your plants. “Speaking of, Minho’s okay with this? And Soonie, Doongie, Dori?”

“Yep.” Jisung reluctantly nods, kicking Minho gently with his foot when he comes back to his side of the fence. “Very much so.”

on a night much like tonight (drabble game)

@skzwriternet

75 notes · View notes

weakzen · 4 years ago

Note

Left on the detective’s desk, a single red rose and a note written in precise handwriting:

Alex,

What happened to you - you didn’t deserve it. You can be loved, if you let yourself.

Happy Valentine’s Day

(yolo experimental style; alex/mason, early established relationship, angst and fluff; no direct mention of abuse, just oblique circling and fatalistic thoughts; rated m for mason; also on AO3~)

Even though I didn't finish reading it, even though I hid it from sight, imprisoned it in darkness, cast it to the depths of the bottom drawer until the end of shift, when it would be possible to smuggle the thing into the break room recycle bin without risking Tina's eyes or interrogation, that stupid fucking note has somehow still managed to reach up through all those heavy files and twist my stomach into knots.

For hours.

Plucking my nerves hard enough to make my hands fucking shake too. Typos in every report, backspace key pulling overtime without pay. Not helped by eyes that won't stop stinging. Armpits that haven't fully dried either, along with a weird chill, shivers that persist despite the sweater and the cranked-up thermostat.

At least the rose is gone. Snuck it into the arrangement on Tina's desk, the one I get her every year.

It looks better surrounded by friends.

It was nice to see it on the desk this morning

(Can still smell it perfuming the air.)

And if I could get rid of my thoughts as easily, I would. Because after half a day of chasing them in circles, I still can't figure out who the fuck sent that goddamn note, who the fuck would write something like that—say shit like that, to me—who could possibly fucking think or know or say anything about that, or that I-I, that I—

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckingfuck.

That sickly feeling wrenches again, hard enough to jerk me forward over the desk, face buried in my hands while my breathing shudders into something unsteady and vaguely gasping.

Fuck.

It can't be Tina.

It can't.

It should be, but it can't.

The writing's not loopy enough to be hers, and it's not slanted enough to be Verda's, and the damn thing isn't covered in nearly enough heart stickers to be from Felix. We all should know. Nate's been sighing nonstop for the past week, scraping them off every available surface in the Warehouse—except for the lacy pink one Felix managed to sneak right between Adam's shoulders.

And the glittery red one I pressed covertly to Mason's ass.

(Maybe not so covertly. Found a few hearts stuck to my underwear later when I slipped outta my jeans, and the secrets of how the fuck he pulled that off are still locked behind his smirk.)

A smile tries to pull at my lips, but the tightness in my gut warps it crooked.

Another shuddery breath.

It can't be from Adam either. If he had something to say to me, he'd just say it, preferably after he finished laying me out on the mats, all sweaty and sucking down air from another session of his gentle ass-kicking. Nate, however, would write a note to me. Has written a note to me. Has written many notes to me and still not made a dent in that stack of expensive stationary, and although the card stock was silk cream, the pigment obsidian night, and the calligraphy swooping in almost a dead ringer, I know it can't be from Nate because he would never leave a rose with his words, not the ones meant for me.

But there isn't anyone else.

There's Mason

And it can't be from him.

It's not his handwriting, to start. I think. I'm pretty sure. I've never actually seen his writing, but I can't imagine it would be anything resembling neat or careful. It's gotta be complete chicken scratch. All cramped and illegible. He's left handed too, barely patient enough to sit through a stoplight, much less give ink the time to dry, so there'd be definitely be smears, and there weren't any smears. At all. Can't be him.

Not to mention he'd never do anything like this.

Don't know why he keeps coming to mind anyway. Just because we're…

Together

—for now.

Doesn't mean he'd ever say anything like that—

He already has

(He did. He said I deserved better and I believe him, but I don't, I can't.)

—only because he'd say differently if he knew.

If he really knew.

He'd say different and I'm not gonna fucking tell him and it doesn't fucking matter anyway, it doesn't. Shine's gonna wear off soon enough. Novelty, satisfied. Boredom, returning. And at least the conversation won't be awkward, just… blunt. To the point. A first for us both, in topic, if not style.

I've never been dumped before, at least not in a romantic sense.

Another breath. Another shuddery breath.

Wonder how it's gonna feel.

(It's gonna suck.)

No fucking shit.

If it can't last, why agree to it at all?

I rub hard at my eyes, grinding palms into sockets.

If it can't last, why not tell him anyway?

Because I already fucking know! Don't need to hear it from him, don't wanna hear it from—

If it can't last, why does it matter what he thinks?

“…Stupid fucking note.”

It was nice to see it on the desk this morning

(Someone took the time, wrote it, left it in here. Someone cares.)

Someone's playing a sick fucking joke, more like.

What if it's genuine?

I scoff ragged, squeezing fingers around the back of my neck.

(Tina cares. So does Verda. The whole team, so many others, I know, and I believe them all but I don't. I can't.)

What if you didn't deserve it?

I did. I stayed and I did. My fault. Fucking stupid, like he always said.

(All Mason ever speaks is care. In a thousand different ways of touch, in silence, in lingering looks, he cares.)

What if you can be loved?

What if you can?

A brittle laugh wheezes past my lips and shoots toward something hysterical, boosted by acid burn and cloying petals and that churning, churning tightness. My shoulders hunch high around my ears while the sound pitches even higher, lungs immolated and screaming along, nails digging, cutting crescents as I shake and curl tighter, smaller, compacting into stiffness hard enough to rival diamonds, every muscle verging on a cramp and my throat is stinging and my eyes are on fire, hot, wet, and the door is closed, the blinds shut, and maybe I could just— this time— if I stayed quiet, I could—

I could—

But I don't.

I swallow once, twice, suck down, blink it away, then snap upright and get back to work. There's too much shit, not enough time.

Never enough time, not for that.

For you

(Remember to eat lunch.)

I don't.

I don't really remember talking to anyone either. Or finishing paperwork. Answering email. Clearing the inbox backlog, digital and otherwise, but the stack depletes, the numbers go down, Tina gives me shit from the doorway, and soon the peripheral lights tick off overhead in the foyer, a mop bucket rattles its rounds, darkness crept into my office at some point for a visit and now it's here to stay, just its quiet company along with the monitor blasting eye strain, clacking keys, tight shoulders, a headache, and then—

A familiar ass plops down on my desk and scares the shit out of me.

I jerk back in the chair, wheels rolling, hand over heart to keep it from pounding free and Mason looms above it all, bathed in harsh blues, deep shadows, a deeper frown, and eyes that refuse to obey the rules of any ambient illumination.

Right now? They're crinkled soft, even as they scrutinize.

He looks… worried.

When did he even open my door?

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“…Yeah,” I mutter. A lie, an obvious one, but I fight the urge to glance away and dare him to call me out anyway. “You need something, sunshine?”

A muscle in his jaw twitches. “You're late.”

“For what?”

We didn't make plans.

“Getting home.”

Fuck.

I sigh, slumping in the seat, and now I'm looking away, now I'm backing down, running a hand through my hair, mussing and tangling, just like he always does when he's uncertain.

And when the hell did I start doing that?

“Yeah, I'm still behind on shit from my vacation. I was gonna stay late tonight, try and catch up…” I explain, because Tina and I also didn't make plans this year.

(Because she's been marinating in smugness ever since I sighed and told her about the relationship. Because she dropped that shit-eating smirk earlier—that I remember, at least—dripping suggestion all over my office as she waggled her brows and winked and made obnoxious kissy faces until I shoved her out the door, but not before she told me to 'have lots of fun tonight, Alexandra.')

Sure.

“Sorry I didn't text. I… forgot.”

That tightness in my stomach does another loop, and I huff a quiet breath.

Stupid fucking note.

Mason folds his arms. “…The fuck is going on with you?”

Concern blunts the teeth of his words, not that there's any real bite. There never is, not with him, but I tense up anyway, expecting it, expecting to be ripped open.

Blood and pain.

I'd tense up no matter how he asked.

It's okay

(He's not Bobby.)

“Nothing,” I reply, folding my arms, eyes down, “just…”

It's okay

(He's not looking to hurt.)

Probably will anyway, but fuck it. I already know his answer.

Let's just get it over with.

“You didn't leave me a valentine earlier, did you?” My gaze snaps to his. “On my desk?”

Mason scoffs. “Why the hell would I do that?”

This time, it stabs instead of twists, higher up, somewhere in my chest. Something sharp instead of dull.

Disappointment? …Relief? I'm not sure.

Just that it stings.

And it's nighttime, so maybe he feels it too, and maybe that's why he unfolds his arms and shifts toward me, boot heel dangling by the bottom drawer while his voice drops to a softness that matches his accent. “What it say?”

“Nothing,” I repeat, even quieter than him. “Just someone fucking with me. It doesn't matter.”

It does

(Shouldn't lie, not to him. Don't need to. Don't want to, don't like it.)

Mason doesn't like it either, but he doesn't push it. Neither do I.

We look away from each other.

The office swelters around us, too stuffy, too small. Too silent and uncomfortable now to stay. I roll forward to save my work, then turn the computer off and Mason's already waiting for me by the door, a dark silhouette framed by distant fluorescent, my coat and bag hanging off his arms. He pulls me in while I put it all on, yanking me by lapels before abandoning them for the sweater on my lower back, the loose hair at my nape. His lips brush against mine in slow movements, soft nibbling, and he's whispering something to me with it all, with the strokes of his fingers and the circle of our chins, but I can't quite hear.

So ask

(He'll answer—and he won't lie.)

I swallow, then I do.

“…What kind of kiss was that?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs beneath my hands, breath tickling my face. “I want you to feel better.”

“Oh.”

A shadow flits behind his eyes.

“…And if he's still bothering you, I'm gonna break his fucking jaw again.”

I chuckle softly. “Pretty sure it wasn't him this time.”

“Good.” Mason nibbles another kiss, then smirks. “Might still do it anyway.”

That gets a laugh from both of us, one that sprawls into a pause, grey eyes locked to mine while our grins fade out and our breath catches on everything unspoken and nameless rushing in to take the space.

Honesty. It's what I try to speak. Trailing up from the emotional ooze, raw and sticky.

I hope he can fucking see it, hear it cry, but I wipe it off and whisper the words into shape anyway, cheeks flaming, just to be sure—

“I'm sorry, I just… I don't wanna talk about it now.”

—and he answers me with a brush of his mouth, with his tongue parting my lips, with the way he teases into me before licking deeper, the way he jerks our hips together then shoves, a knee between my thighs, my back into a wall, a door frame, a sharp corner, a low groan rumbling up his chest directly into mine and I hear it all this time, in his breathy panting at the edge of our kiss, the firmness in his fingers angling my face to his, the solid heat of his cock pressed hard against me, grinding slow while I cling tight and moan, I hear it all, but he sucks my lip in with a sharp inhale, rolls me around his mouth before releasing with a drag of teeth, and he murmurs it aloud anyway, just to be sure—

“I know, sweetheart. It's fine.”

—then he nips down hard, and it's hard not to smile, hard not to laugh, harder still not to nip that asshole right back, so I don't.

Hold back, that is.

Our lips are swollen and sore by the time the station door swings shut behind us.

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #twc m #twc mason #mason x detective #mason #the detective #zfic #alex/mason #alexandra black

31 notes · View notes

awstenknyght · 4 years ago

Text

Big Hero Six AU Part Two!!!!!!

A/N: i finished the next part!! please give me validation i love this au so much- also disclaimer!! this is not exact to the movie because A. obviously some details have to be rearranged and B. disney should’ve let hiro say fuck and i will stand by that

Warnings: death, language, spoilers for the big hero 6 movie!!

Tags: @love-pyramus @mrlcverman @joshkatz @thatsmycigarbutyoucanborrowit @weaselweaselweasel @the-cowbi @mister-sunny-raccoon-boy @panicky-pancakes

Wheels followed Kath to another room, this one more isolated than the rest. “I want to show you what I’ve been working on.”

Katherine pulled out a roll of duct tape. She put a piece on Wheels’ arm and pulled it off quickly.

“Ow! What the fuck Kath?” Wheels said, pulling her arm back.

A small box across the room lit up and a boy rose up from it. He was tall with blonde hair. One of his eyes was a stormy blue, it almost looked like it was made of metal.

“Hello! I am Switch Eye, your personal health care companion! I was alerted to your need for medical attention when you said ‘ow.’”

“A robot?” Wheels asked, amazed. She moved closer and examined it. “Kat, this is amazing-“

“I will scan you now,” Switch continued. “Scan complete. You have a slight thermal abrasion on your forearm. I suggest an anti bacterial spray.”

Wheels watched in awe as Switch Eye sprayed something on her arm. “You must’ve done some serious coding on this thing.”

“Mouse worked on it too,” Kath replied with a shrug. “He’s gonna help a lot of people.”

Wheels grinned. This whole school was nothing like she expected. For the first time in years, she felt like she had something new to learn. And SFIT was where she needed to be.

There was a knock at the door. A man came in and smiled. “Katherine! Working the midnight oil?”

“Just picking something up, Professor,” Kath replied with a grin.

Then man spotted Wheels’ bot and picked it up. “Wow. This is an excellent piece of machinery. What’s your name?”

“Wheels, sir,” she said, tapping her fingers excitedly, ready to ramble on and on about her work. “I used magnetic-bearing servos. Wanna see how I put them together?”

“Hey genius, he invented them,” Kath called over her shoulder.

Wheels’ eyes widened. “You’re Snyder? As in Snyder’s law of robotics?”

“The one and only!” he chuckled. “You know, you have some real skill. Have you ever thought of attending here?”

“I- uh-”

“She’s pretty serious about her bot fighting career,” Katherine said with a smirk. “Ready to go?”

Wheels bit her tongue and nodded. Maybe she could go here.

As they got out to the car, Wheels stopped. “I have to go here. If I don’t, I’m gonna explode.”

“So dramatic,” Katherine said sarcastically. “You could always do the showcase?”

“Showcase?”

“Invent something that blows the judges away, and you’re in. It’s gonna be hard. You’re gonna have to give up bot fighting.”

Wheels looked down at her fighter. She had to do this. Whatever it takes, she’d get into SFIT.

***

“I have. No ideas. Brain empty.”

Wheels was surrounded by crumbled up papers and broken pencils. She had been sitting for hours. None of her ideas were good enough.

“Wow. Washed up at fourteen. So sad,” Katherine said sarcastically, not looking up from her book.

“I’m never gonna get into SFIT. I’m never gonna amount to anything.” She felt Katherine pick her up and spin her around before throwing her lightly onto the bed. “Hey! What the fuck?”

“You just need a to look at it from a new angle,” Katherine said with a shrug.

Wheels threw a pillow at her sister before something caught her eye. Her bot. What if-

Wheels grabbed the notebook off her desk and began scribbling all over it. Katherine smiled with satisfaction and went back to her half of the room.

Over the next month, Wheels worked on her project relentlessly. Finally, almost a month later, it was ready.

“Are you scared?” Katherine asked as she pushed a large recycling bin to Wheels’ assigned stage.

“What? No. You’re talking to an ex bot fighter, nothing scares me.”

“Yep, she’s scared,” Josie chimed in from behind. She’d been spending a lot more time with Katherine’s friends from school, and they were more then happy to help her out.

“Kat! Your girlfriend is bullying me!” Wheels whined.

Katherine laughed. As everyone else continued to joke around behind them, she pulled her little sister to the side. “You ready shithead?”

“Of course, asshole.” Wheels nodded her head in determination. “I have to get into this school.”

“You will,” Katherine replied. She looked through the curtains to see a small crowd gathered. “You’re on!”

Wheels took a deep breath and rolled up to the stage. This was her time to shine.

“This is a microbot,” she said, holding up a small black piece of metal. Her microphone screeched. The crowd began to look uninterested and she panicked.

Then, she caught Katherine’s eye. Her sister nodded her head and mouthed ‘Breathe.’

Wheels took a deep breathe and continued. “It might not look like much, but when it comes together with its friends,” she put on a headpiece. “Things get a little more interesting.”

The bins next to the stage tipped over and thousands of tiny bots spilled out, forming a geometric structure next to her.

“The possibilities are limitless. Building, transportation,” the bots lifted her up and moved her across the stage. “Even accessibility! You think it, microbots can do it!”

The crowd, which had grown significantly since the demonstration started, cheered. Wheels left the stage and was met with a huge hug from Katherine, as well as congratulations from Davey, Cora, and everyone else.

Wheels noticed one more person coming out from the crowd. “Dad?”

Pulitzer nodded tersely. “Excellent bots you’ve got there, Octavia. You know, we could make a lot of money mass-producing these.”

Wheels didn’t know how to respond. Her father had never said anything about her work before, barely even looked at it. And now he was willing to work with her to mass-produce them?

“Not so fast,” Snyder said, running up. “You could also wait and develop your bots, or you could sell them to someone who only cares about his own self interest.”

Snyder was giving her father an icy glare. Wheels knew the two didn’t get along, but she never questioned why. Pulitzer had a lot of enemies.

The two bickered awkwardly for a bit before she cut in. “Sorry father, but I’m not for sale.”

Snyder smiled as Pulitzer walked away, assistant in tow. “You made the right choice kid. I hope to see you at school.”

He handed her a white envelope with the school’s seal on it. Her eyes widened. No way.

The next few minutes went by in a blur. There was lots of congratulations, Cora invited everyone over for dinner, but Katherine pulled her away.

“I know what you’re gonna say,” Wheels said as she gazed at the school she’d soon be attending. In a high-pitched mocking impression of her sister’s voice, “I should be proud of myself that I’m finally doing something important with my life!”

“No, I was just gonna say that your shirts on inside out.”

“What?” she looked down at her t-shirt. Kath was right. “Fuck you.”

Katherine laughed. “Welcome to need school, nerd.”

Wheels smiled. “Thanks for being for me. I wouldn’t be here without-“

Before she could finish her thought, people stated flooding out of the building. Katherine pulled someone aside. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“There’s was a fire,” she coughed. “Everyone else is out, but Snyder’s still in there!”

Katherine let her go and moved towards the door. Wheels grabbed her hand. “Katherine, no. You’re gonna get hurt!”

“Snyder’s in there. Someone has to save him.” With that, Katherine ran inside.

Stupid Kath and her stupid hero complex. Wheels moved to follow her, refusing to let her do it alone.

She was blown back by an explosion of heat. Everything went black, then red. Jet head was pounding. Every sound around her was dull, as if it was happening far away. Her hearing aid must’ve fallen out.

Katherine.

There was no way she could’ve survived that. Kath was gone.

#fuck you im pinning this #PLEASE read it and talk to be about it-

19 notes · View notes

babieateez · 4 years ago

Text

ah yes, the end of a year. time is an illusion so i’m not feeling particularly sentimental, but i do think that it’s about time for me to post this piece c:

there’s something about autumn that makes everything feel like magic

maybe it’s the way the wind blows across your skin or the way the leaves slowly wither and change colors and fall to the ground

or maybe it’s the way sitting in a coffee shop feels, with the warmth of your drink resting on your palms as you take a sip and look out the big window in the cafe and give stories to every passerby with their noses huddled into scarves and big coats engulfing their bodies

you can’t quite place the smell of autumn, maybe it’s the scent of baked goods and the crisp air and laughter coming from the couples who take solace in going for walks hand in hand or maybe it’s the scent of falling for strangers, a romance only seen in storybooks making its way to the front of your mind when you see a handsome stranger pass by the window you sit at in the cafe

you don’t realize that you haven’t taken your eyes off of him until he walks into the cafe

the cool breeze breaks you out of your reverie and you hurriedly nuzzle closer to your drink to get your mind off of the cute guy with the wind-tousled hair

but it doesn’t help very much because as you do your best to focus on the work before you, you can’t help but sneak glances of the alluring stranger sat waiting for his drink

you almost jump in your seat when the barista interrupts the gentle music playing by calling out a name, yunho, and you see the pretty man react by standing and grabbing his drink, thanking the employee gently then going to sit back down

you’re so starstruck with the timbre of his voice and how his eyes sparkle and at this point you realize you’re never going to get your work done as long as yunho is here to distract you

so you reluctantly pack your laptop into your bag and sip down the last bit of your drink, throwing it into the recycling receptacle on your way out as the barista says a goodbye to you

and then you’re outside, free from the almost overwhelming presence of one of the most attractive people you’ve ever laid eyes on

but it’s like your heart was calling out to him, like you were under the influence of some unknown drug that was making your mind go crazy with thoughts of him and you did your thing, made a story about him and who he was, deciding that he was some businessman trapped in the rat race but who had a fun-loving soul and secretly hated his job but liked going out with his coworkers after the long day to unwind

without realizing it, you’ve fallen asleep at the desk in your bedroom, whispers of your heart lulling you to rest

the next morning you are awaken by the gentle autumn light filtering through your curtains, shining just enough to light the inside of your eyelids and you realize that you had fallen asleep without changing into pajamas or showering or anything really but you just rub the sleep out of your eyes and start your morning with a yawn and a nice stretch

once you’re all cozied up in a jacket you head out to work where it feels like the day drags by

so your mind wanders again, a habit you can’t seem to shake and you find yourself pondering once more on that man- yunho, you remind yourself- who had you so enchanted

you hardly notice but you’re writing haikus on some scrap paper littered on your workspace about fleeting enamorment and sweet glances exchanged between coy lovers

it’s like the workday was dragging on to impossible lengths but also flew by all too quickly and you find yourself walking the breezy path to the coffee shop you adore so much

when finally you get there and it’s like whatever deity that may be watching has decided to bless you because yunho was in the line as well, the last person waiting to order which means you’d have to stand behind him to queue up

and it’s like as soon as you step closer to him, he becomes a ray of sunshine, radiating warmth and good feelings and smiles directed towards anyone looking once you feel a blush forming on your face, you turn your head downwards to hide it a little until you’re ready to order

at which point you get your usual drink when the barista surprises you by saying that the man in front of you had payed for your drink to which you respond with a shaky voice saying “oh, okay,” and a sweet “thank you” as you debate in your head if you go over to the object of your affections to-

to what? thank him? tell him you can pay for your own drink, but you’re grateful nonetheless? your internal thoughts don’t seem to be leading you anywhere

but it’s not like it matters since you’re brought back to reality by a voice saying “uh, hey” to you and you look up so fast that you swear you can feel the muscles in your neck screaming for help

but you ignore the muscles and instead opt to basically gape at the tall man standing in front of you who seems slightly bashful, with a hand rubbing at the back of his neck and a slight flush on his face that you dismiss as being from the cold chill of the outside air and before you can even get out a greeting, he starts to talk

saying that he was sorry if paying for your drink was weird or something but you looked all spaced out and he was slightly concerned that you would forget how to pay for your drink

with the small smile that just keeps growing on his face as he says more, you know he’s joking so you try to push down the laugh that’s bubbling up in your chest and instead say a thank you to him and that you feel bad for worrying him about your mental state

it’s like the brisk air surrounding you has decided to vacate the premises when he smiles even wider than before, warmth and positivity filling your soul and like a cat basking in the warmth of the sunlight, you wish you could bask in the warmth of his presence forever

until once more your train of thought is interrupted when he sticks his hand out introduces himself with an “i’m yunho, thank you for letting me buy your coffee” and in return, you put your hand in his and give it a gentle shake, saying your name and a “thank you for buying me a coffee”

once the drinks you were waiting on have been safely procured, you sit down at the table you frequent by the window, noticing that yunho follows suit and sits with you

but you’re too far gone staring out the window and giving people stories that you hardly have time to ponder the look he’s giving you, likely confusion from the way your eyes have glazed over in thought and fictional worlds only to be seen in your mind

yunho doesn’t seem to be the kind of person to sit in confusion for too long, instead he asks you gently what you’re doing and you respond to him, telling him that you like giving people lives that you’ve made up and he’s silent for a moment before commenting that it seems like fun

and if you made one for him which, of course you did, but you’re hesitant to tell him about so you answer his question with a question, asking him if he would have made one for you, and he is honest, as he seems to be by principle, saying that yes, he would have made one for you

spouting off something about being a monarch of some fairytale land and maybe you were hiding your magical powers behind some sort of cloak

you laugh, telling him that you’re just a desk worker, a cog in the machine, working a 9 to 5 and making enough money to pay rent and feed yourself and fuel your coffee addiction

his face flushes once more, saying that his story is more fun, and it is, you can’t deny that

what you don’t know is that in his head, you aren’t some fairytale monarch, in his head, you are a beautiful stranger he saw in a coffee shop, who maybe has fallen in love with the crunch of fallen leaves under your feet and warm coffee on cold days and hearty laughter

in his story, he thinks of the future, as fleeting as it may be, with you, with him, together, cherishing the leaves under your feet together and keeping each other warm on the cold days where one of your forgets your jacket

but he can’t tell you that he fancies himself enamored with a stranger, someone he’s just met, so he pretends that the magic he feels around you is mystical and fairytale

when it’s just the whispers of affection in his ear telling him that you’re the most ethereal person he thinks he’s laid eyes on and that he can’t let you go in case anyone tries to snatch you up

so while he’s still half caught in his thoughts of you, he finds himself telling you that you’re really nice to talk to and if you would maybe like to exchange phone numbers

you can’t help but almost choke on your drink, the liquid threatening to shoot out of your nose as you splutter for air and cough a few times into your arm before nodding your head and letting out a “yeah, sure”

luckily yunho doesn’t call out your mishap but he hands you his phone to put your number into and by the time you part ways and go back to your apartment, you start overthinking and wondering if he’s just never going to text you and ignore your existence for the rest of time

but your phone lets out a “ding” in the middle of your inner struggle with a text from an unknown number, reading “hey, it’s yunho!! i just got home, so i figured i’d text you! let me know when you get home safely!!”

you can feel your heart expand in your chest like you were a child with a crush and text him back with a “hey! i made it home, thanks for checking!” and after that it was a gentle cascade of messages flowing to and from yunho

until you found your eyelids closing on their own accord, sleep claiming you for another night and when the next morning rolls around, it’s like the day has greeted you with open arms, embracing you, gracing you with a fast day at work

it seems like you’ve blinked and now you’re at the cafe and yunho is there too, and is he waiting??

his coffee is already in his hand, but his eyes are flitting around the shop, looking, until they find you, coming to rest on your figure standing in line

a smile lights up his face and you feel a rush of warmth in your heart at seeing him

so you order as quickly as you can without being rude, deciding to wait for your drink at the table yunho was at while making small conversation and it’s lovely, even when you get up for a second to get your drink it feels like the conversation didn’t pause

by the time the both of you have finished your drinks, yunho seems sort of fidgety, almost like he wants to say something but is unsure of himself, but you don’t want to make any assumptions or stick your nose where it isn’t wanted so you hold your tongue and decide that if he has something to say, you won’t pry or rush him about it

you’re glad you made that decision because the next time he speaks, it’s with a gentle tone, sugary sweet like the frappuccinos the cafe serves, asking you if next time, maybe, you’d want to talk over coffee as a, well, a date or maybe go on a walk together or something

you respond pretty immediately, with a grin breaking through your features, saying yes, of course, you’d love nothing more

and the first date is lovely, shy smiles and warm faces transforming into a second date, then a third, and now it’s been months, yunho is now your boyfriend and you’re really satisfied with everything that has come with him-

the linked pinkies and giggles into each other’s shoulders and the way his whole body seems to engulf you in a hug out of pure passion

the seasons are changing, you know it, the fall turning to winter and the chill becoming more prevalent in your bones, so the only reasonable solution is to pile on about ten more blankets to your bed

and also for your boyfriend to move in with you to keep you warm underneath all of the blankets and it’s such a good solution that when the air changes once more into springtime, you don’t know how you’re going to be able to sleep without wrapping your whole being around your boyfriend’s warm frame

one day you’re caught in your thoughts while on a date at the cafe you both frequented, yunho holding your hands from across the table, his thumb gently tracing the top of your hand

and you voice your thoughts, telling him that you thought that it was the magic of the brisk autumn air that made you fall in love with him, that you’d change with the seasons, that he’d been somehow enchanted with the fall beauty that graced everyone and that he’d also change with the seasons but somehow you’d managed to face the changing of the seasons together, and now you weren’t sure that you’d be able to do it alone

and he chuckles at your words, saying that even though the autumn was indeed magical, he thought you were the one that made it magical for him, creating a perfect love story that he could be a part of, and that you had both changed with the seasons, only you had done it together, changing with each other and that only made everything more special, and that he’s only looking forward to spending the rest of the seasons with you

you know then that this isn’t even close to some passing infatuation, that it wasn’t just some crummy, fake “love-at-first-sight” blunder, but it was somehow meant to be

that there was nothing more you could have wished for, and you thank the magic of autumn for giving you a love you would be able to cherish until your last breath

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez au #yunho scenarios #yunho imagines #yunho au #sfw #yunho #jeong yunho #j.yunho #bee writes

37 notes · View notes

renaerys · 4 years ago

Text

PPG One-Shot: Six Degrees Chiller (Brick/Blossom)

A new cute one-shot in honor of @carriedreamerx birthday! In the same high school AU as part 1, part 2, and part 3, but can totally stand-alone. Also posted on my AO3. Tune in for some laughs and some Reds cuteness!

Summary: Brick goes deodorant shopping. It doesn't end well. (Or does it??)

xxx

Brick squinted at the nine-foot shelf packed with a full color wheel of deodorants and antiperspirants. The sheer surfeit of brands and scents was as daunting to behold as it was absolutely batshit insane—how many ways did people need to not smell like a dirty gym sock?

He picked a random stick and scowled at the label as if it had offended him and all his future progeny. Who the fuck would want to smell like mango lassi?

The squeak of a shopping cart rolling down the aisle sent Brick into a febrile panic for a hot second, and he shoved the saccharine deodorant stick back onto the shelf. A geriatric woman with a hunched back, a bright head scarf, and eyes so folded over with wrinkles it was a miracle she could see anything at all wheeled her cart slowly past Brick, who froze where he stood. She smiled politely at him, and he nodded out of sheer self-preservation instinct. The moment she passed him, he yanked the bill of his red cap lower over his eyes.

“Get a grip,” he grumbled. He was an eighteen-year-old guy buying deodorant, not stool softener. He was totally casual and had absolutely no reason to be so fucking paranoid. Nobody who might recognize him was coming to Cooper’s Market at 8 a.m. on a Sunday.

Brick wiped his clammy palms on his jeans and searched the shelves for what he’d come for so he could hurry up and leave. There it was, fifth shelf in a sea of sleek black and edgy, neon letters: Axe Ice Chill.

“Okay, do you consider yourself more of a music lover, sports star, gaming guru, or style icon?” Boomer had asked as he sat cross-legged on the sofa with his laptop open to the Axe “Find Your Magic” test a few months ago.

“Sports star,” Butch had said on his left, and poked the screen that wasn’t a touch-screen.

“That’s you, moron,” Brick had said, totally above this stupid test. “Pick style icon.”

Boomer grinned. “Oh yeah, your hoodies are so stylin’.” He clicked the next question. “Signature scent? Huh, maybe warm and aromatic?”

“Sounds like one of those Yankee holiday candles,” Butch had said.

Unfortunately, he had a point.

“Well, you're not exactly woody and earthy, and you’re definitely not fruity and sweet—”

“Just go to the next one.” Brick clicked on “fresh and cool” and waited for the screen to load. “Smellin’ good!” the loading page flashed at him. Jesus fucking Christ.

When the quiz presented a true or false statement, Butch moved like he had a bug up his ass and slammed the touchpad before Brick or Boomer could do anything about it.

Boomer tried not to laugh. “Dude, come on.”

“Please, he’s a punk-ass dweeb who’d never make the first move in a fight, let alone on a girl—” Butch had taunted.

Brick punched him in the throat with his Super speed and smiled at the sound of his asshat brother gagging. “Choke and die, motherfucker.”

Butch wheezed as he laughed through the pain, and Brick and Boomer breezed through the more generic age and appearance questions: under 18, long hair (“Mane Man!” the quiz gushed, and Brick almost melted Boomer’s laptop right there), and natural look. After an artificially anticipatory loading screen, a picture of a dude with a clown nose crowd surfing in a sepia Instagram filter appeared on the screen with the generic “Be your best self!” encouragement in blocky letters superimposed upon it, and finally the expert, personalized recommendation for Brick’s body spray needs.

“Because you’re hotter when you’re chill.” Brick had cringed when he read that idiotic tagline the first time, and he cringed reading it again now in the deserted personal hygiene aisle where he prayed no one would find him buying this cry-for-help vanity spritz.

However.

He sprayed a bit of mist in the air and reveled in that cool, icy scent that wasn’t a scent so much as a feeling. Six degrees chiller in a bottle. The first time he’d tried it (under great duress), he’d griped and bitched and slammed his bedroom door to get away from his howling brothers. Settled on his bed with a frown, he had to admit it did cool him off. It was almost pleasant. The smell wasn’t overwhelming like that tiger piss Butch bathed in on the daily. But it wasn’t out of this world compared to the generic shit he’d been using before.

It wasn’t until Blossom sneezed on their way out of AP Lit that her ice breath—and understanding—hit him with the force of a cold snap to the balls.

“Sorry, did I get you?” she’d said, abashed as she covered her mouth with one hand and fished out a bottle of Purell from her messenger bag with the other. Her ice splatter fast melted on his shoulder as his too-warm body absorbed the cold with a bizarre, but extremely pleasant, shiver down his spine.

Son of a bitch, but he had a kink.

Which, of course, spiraled way the hell out of control when he found himself here months later with a recycled shopping bag he’d brought so he could carry the three bottles of Axe Ice Chill he planned to purchase home, because Brick planned ahead and liked to keep his bathroom well-stocked.

Which also, of course, was why at that very moment, fate decided to punch him in the dick.

“Bubbles, you have, like, fourteen bottles of shampoo at home! You don’t need another one,” Buttercup groused at 8 in the goddamned morning on a Sunday.

“Those are all different products, not just shampoo. Honestly, Buttercup.” Bubbles zipped into the aisle with Buttercup on her tail just at the moment Brick had his second panic attack in the span of five minutes and completely lost his shit.

He launched the bottle of Axe Ice Chill so hard into the ceiling that it lodged in there tighter than a prairie-dogging turd.

“Brick?” Blossom’s hand on his shoulder nearly sent him yeeting after his abused body spray, if the sheer mortification didn’t rob him of further motor function and exactly one hundred percent of his brain cells.

Like her sisters, she wore a jacket over her pajama pants. They must have just popped over for some last-minute breakfast staples and a side of peer humiliation. But even in those criminally hideous Ugg boots and five boxes of pancake mix in her shopping basket at 8 on a fucking Sunday morning, her smile glowed.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he returned lamely, because that was all she was getting from him until his neurological functions rebooted.

“Hi, Brick,” Buttercup said, suspicious like usual and searching for some excuse to bust his balls for a laugh. “What’re you doing here?”

The Super sisters had cornered him in front of the Teen Spirit, which came in an absolutely frightful eighteen scents because there was nothing pubescent teenagers needed more than eighteen reassurances that their social survival depended on smelling like a potpourri candy bar.

“Shopping, obviously,” Bubbles said. “Ooh, Brick, you have straight hair. What do you think?” She held up two bottles of brightly colored free-range, organic hair shit.

“I think I was just leaving,” he managed.

“Empty-handed?” Buttercup peered at him like he might transform into a literal dick with ears if she only managed not to blink for long enough. He could smell the threat of a joke on her.

“They didn’t have the brand I wanted.”

“Oh, that sucks,” Bubbles said, genuinely stricken.

“Girls, let’s get going. I really want those pancakes,” Blossom said.

“We better grab more syrup. Buttercup finished it all,” Bubbles said, already moving away. She dropped both hair products in Blossom’s basket, not bothering to choose between them.

“Oh please, everybody knows you and the Professor are the syrup fiends in this house.” Buttercup floated after her and waved to Brick. “Hey, tell that shithead to answer my texts. He owes me $20.”

“Uh-huh,” Brick said, fully intending not to mention anything about this conversation to Butch at all.

“Sorry about your favorite brand being sold out,” Blossom said.

It’s fine, he would have said had she not caught his cheek in her hand and pressed a frosty kiss to the corner of his lips before he could do anything about it. Frozen fernlings crept over his cheek and chin, down his neck, and slowly absorbed through his now flushed skin, and he shivered. Without even thinking about it, he reached for her, but she was already walking away to catch up with her sisters.

When she got to the end of the aisle, she shot him a cheeky grin over her shoulder and had the nerve to wink at him. “Stay cool, Brick.”

Red in the face and high on her, Brick just stood there like an idiot gawking at his kind of unofficial girlfriend and the singular dominating object of his fantasies, be they sexual or otherwise. What was dignity when she smiled at him like that? What was a paltry imitation in a bottle when she kissed him like that?

The paltry imitation fell from its hole in the ceiling and exploded on the tiled floor at Brick’s feet with a winter ferocity that, in that moment at least, rivaled Blossom’s in the heat of battle.

When Brick got home later that morning and Boomer asked him why he smelled like a snowman’s asshole, Brick burned the clothes on his back and spent the next half hour in the shower thinking about how he was going to convince Blossom to make the first move and finally make them official.

xxx

Y’all better appreciate the research that went into this fic. That Axe quiz is real and I took it pretending to be Brick, and it literally does spit out a photo of a dude wearing a clown nose in a club. If that’s not a sign from the Daddy that I’ve chosen the righteous path, then idk what is. Sacrifices to my Chrome search history were made for this fic in the name of celebrating Carrie, ergo, worth it.

#Blossick #PPG Reds #Blossom #Brick #Powerpuff Girls #PPG Fanfic #Powerpuff Girls Fanfiction #february fic prompts #ppg shook

50 notes · View notes

absentlyabbie · 4 years ago

Photo

a family and (mis)fortune fic

on ao3

moments growing up in the life of tommy merlyn, part-time wayne foster child. (seven)

—————

The morning of Tommy’s eighth day in Gotham, Bruce came downstairs in the morning at his usual 6AM, heading to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Dick would be down shortly, still half-asleep and grouchy from their late night, and Alfred wouldn’t be far behind. Bruce had scored a rare victory in their years-long argument that Alfred should take a late morning after manning the Batcave well into the small hours of the night.

What Bruce had not expected to find when he went into the kitchen was Tommy, seated at the small kitchen table with a bowl of cereal and the funny pages from yesterday’s paper spread out on the tabletop, spotted with milk and orange juice. Tommy had slept til nearly 8 every day of the last week, and Bruce had seen no reason not to let him.

Seeing that Tommy had clearly risen before everyone else was a surprise and a concerning break in pattern. To add to the concern, Tommy looked just as startled to see him.

“Good morning,” Bruce tested slowly. “You’re up early.”

Tommy tensed and looked away, one shoulder jerking in a dismissive shrug as he shoveled a too-large spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Hoping he wasn’t messing this up, Bruce asked carefully, “Bad dreams?”

Tommy ignored him as if he hadn’t spoken and Bruce winced discreetly, certain he shouldn’t have asked. Clearing his throat, he let it drop and went to the coffee maker. He left Tommy to his quiet, thinking on how tired he’d been of people trying to make him talk about what he’d felt and how he was coping when he was that age.

Minutes later, Dick shambled into the kitchen like a zombie in a blue pajama set, hair a wild mess and eyes only barely open. He grumbled a hello at Bruce and snatched Bruce’s mug from under the finishing drip, taking a long sip and hissing even as it scalded his lips and tongue.

Reprovingly, Bruce reclaimed his mug. “You are fourteen. Follow Tommy’s example. Orange juice.”

Scowling melodramatically, Dick dragged his feet to the fridge and grunted, “OJ’s not caffeinated.”

“That’s the point.”

Dick grumbled through pulling down a glass and pouring his juice, and Bruce hid a smirk in his coffee mug as he rounded the large center island. Normally, they took breakfast in the dining room, even when it was just toast and eggs or Pop Tarts for Dick. But since Tommy was already seated, Bruce decided to take a seat opposite him at the little eat-in as if this was as normal and routine as anything else.

Tommy didn’t even look up from his funnies.

Despite his grumbling, Dick was already far more awake and more his normal self by the time he headed over to them with orange juice and a silver foil packet in hand. He perched in the chair nearest Tommy’s and craned across the table with a playful curl to his mouth, “Whatcha got there? Ooh, is that—?”

Bruce looked up sharply at the loud smack of palms on tabletop, his brows arching high in surprise. Dick had tried to pull the comics pages towards him and Tommy had reacted with a swift, hard slap of his palms down on the paper, pinning it to the tabletop where it was.

But what drew Bruce up short was the venomous glare Tommy was pinning Dick with.

Dick had sat back sharp in his seat, eyes wide, shocked and a little hurt judging by the slight inward quirk of his brows. “Geez. Sorry.”

Tommy said nothing, just glared until Dick raised his hands from the newspaper pages and held them up in surrender. Bruce frowned as Tommy pulled the pages closer, hunched over them, and went back to his soggy cereal without a word.

Bruce and Dick exchanged a worried glance. For a moment, Bruce considered saying something about Tommy’s behavior, making him apologize to Dick. But he didn’t feel he’d made enough progress with him yet to practice amateur parenting on him. So he said nothing, and Dick slouched back in his chair to unwrap his Pop Tart and cast furtive, watchful glances at Tommy, who ignored them both steadily.

It only got worse as the morning went on. Not even Alfred got an acknowledgement when he joined them in the kitchen. Tommy looked at no one, spoke to no one, just folded up his funnies, put them in the recyclables bin, rinsed his bowl and glass and set them in the sink, and walked out of the kitchen without so much as a backwards glance for any of them.

Bruce felt he’d somehow not only lost all the progress he’d made with Tommy in his first week, but somehow regressed even further.

All of a sudden, he was quiet to the point of silent treatment, and though Bruce had noticed many times that Tommy carried in him an anger mostly hidden, it was closer to the surface than ever, a pot hissing and simmering and threatening to boil over any moment.

Only he never boiled over.

He kept up that spitting low boil for almost two days, spending as much time alone as possible, speaking as little as he could get away with. Two days of no smiles and no laughter, just clenched tight as a fist and ticking like a bomb that refused to go off.

Bruce was at a loss. Alfred was concerned, watchful, but insisted on being hands off.

“Perhaps he needs to get something out of his system, Master Bruce. We must let him talk to us when he is ready,” Alfred had suggested gently, and as much as it chafed at Bruce, he saw no other approach that didn’t look like it might make things worse.

Dick, on the other hand, was absolutely determined to recover the kid he’d started to befriend, the one who liked his puns and his comics and video games and talked to him.

It was perhaps unsurprising that it was Dick’s persistence that eventually paid off. He needled and nagged and dogged Tommy at every turn the two days of silent treatment, cracking jokes and performing outlandish stunts and gags and being generally annoying, whatever he thought might get a reaction.

And he did get a reaction, though Bruce wasn’t sure it was the one he ought to have been aiming for.

Tommy broke not with giggles or grins, but with a fed-up howl of “Will you quit it!!”

There had followed a cackling laugh—Dick—and a growling shout—Tommy—and a loud thump.

Bruce had hurried to the library to find the boys wrestling on the floor between two shelves, pulling at fingers and hair and shoving feet in faces. Bruce stared, stunned, from the doorway, struck by how unfair a fight it was with Dick almost five years older and regularly training in martial arts.

But Dick didn’t pull any of his advantages other than size, letting Tommy get on top of him twice and think he had him pinned before bucking the smaller boy or wriggling out from under him to turn the tables all over again.

Eventually Tommy got fed up, kicking Dick off of him with both feet to the chest—almost impressive, admittedly—and jumping to his feet with an aggravated huff and face red. He glanced to the door and did a wincing doubletake on spotting Bruce. Reddening even more, he shoved past Bruce to run stomping down the hall.

Watching him go until he turned a corner, Bruce shifted his attention to Dick with arms crossed and one eyebrow arched. “Was that the wisest approach, Dick?”

Dick, for his part, snorted and rolled nimbly onto his toes with a grin. Rubbing his sternum lightly in appreciation, he gave Bruce a twinkling look and a shake of his head. “You so obviously didn’t grow up around other kids.”

Bruce frowned as Dick danced breezily past him, hands in pockets. “I had friends.”

“Uh huh,” Dick drawled.

“I wasn’t a child hermit, Dick.”

He spun on his heel in the middle of the hallway to look Bruce in the eye with deep solemnity. “I believe you.” Sarcastic brat. “Trust me, this was good. It’s only up from here.”

Bruce hummed skeptically as Dick strolled whistling down the hall.

But really, he hoped Dick was right.

—————

@memcjo @klaus-hargreeves-katz @its-a-pygmy-puffle @keabbs @princesssarcastia @obscure-sentimentalist @icannotbelieveiamhere @p0cketw0tch @andyouweremine @storiesofimagination @acheaptrickandacheesyoneline @cronusamporaofficial @batsonthebrain @adeusminhacolombina @nothinglikeweplanned

#tommy merlyn #bruce wayne #dick grayson #arrow #arrow fic #batfam #alfred pennyworth #family and (mis)fortune au #fam au

21 notes · View notes

4kominato · 4 years ago

Text

A/N: So basicallyyy, this is a recycled kpop fic that I felt was fitting for my best boy, Nori, so here we are 🙂 FIRST DAIYA FIC WOOP! ~ kuri

Prompt: first time where fem!reader bleeds making bf!Nori worry

Pairing: Kawakami Norifumi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut (M) ~ SEXUAL CONTENT

Word Count: 2,233

“This movie sucks,” you groaned as you let your head plop onto your boyfriend’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I thought it’d be good,” Nori replied defensively, “The ratings were high.”

“It’s not your fault, I’m just disappointed,” you pouted.

“Did you wanna do something else?” he suggested since it was unlikely that you were gonna sit through the rest of the movie.

“Let’s just stay here for a bit and cuddle,” you replied as you snuggled into his chest.

“Okay, I like that idea,” he hummed as he pulled you close and rested his head on top of yours.

You enjoyed having these pure, wholesome moments with Nori and found the sound of his heartbeat rather calming, but for some reason, whenever you guys were physical for long periods of time, your mind would always end up drifting to dirty thoughts. The two of you had been sexual before, but a lot of the time, you tried to control yourself so you wouldn’t give him the wrong idea; you loved him more than words could express and it wasn’t just for sexual gratification.

You hadn’t gone all the way with him yet, but you couldn’t deny that the thought had crossed your mind more times than once. Since Nori never really mentioned much about sex to you other than making occassional dirty jokes, it was hard for you to bring the topic up to him. He was a boy, but no matter how hard you thought about it, you just couldn’t convince yourself that he thought about it as much as you did.

“Nori-chan...” you mumbled nervously, finally growing desperate enough to attempt having a conversation about the topic with him.

“Mm?”

“Um… have you ever thought about… it?”

“About what?”

“Y’know… ‘it’…” You could feel your stomach folding into knots as you thought about what you should say next. You didn’t want to say it out right, but at the same time maybe it wasn’t a good idea to assume he’d know what ‘it’ meant.

“It?” he asked again, urging you to sit up before throwing you a concerned look, “What do you mean? If there’s something bothering you, tell me.”

“Er… well…” you started, breaking eye contact with him, “It’s just… uh…”

“Is it bad? Am I doing something wrong?”

“No! Not at all! It’s… ugh…” Out of frustration, you cupped your face in your hands and tried to calm yourself down so that you could start over and try again.

“Oi…” Nori said worriedly as he pulled you in for a hug, “I didn’t mean to upset you, sorry… you can tell me when you’re ready to.”

After taking a moment to collect yourself, you briefly looked back up at him before pressing your lips against his. You came to the decision that asking him verbally was too difficult, at least in that context, so you would ask him through actions instead. It’d been a while since the last time you’d done anything sexual with him so you felt it’d be okay to let things escalate a little bit today.

As you continued to move your lips against his, one of your hands found its way down to his stomach, slowly drifting lower and lower down his body. Before you knew it, your fingers slid right over the waistband of his sweats and landed right on his crotch, the feeling of his already hardening member under your palm making your core ache with desire.

He let a moan slip into your mouth as you started to stroke him over the thin material of his pants, his hand going to your waist and pulling you closer to him before he broke the kiss, letting his head fall back against the back of the couch.

“Is this the ‘it’ you were talking about earlier?” he asked breathily, as you continued to palm at his erection.

“Um well… possibly…” you trailed off, the movement in your hand starting to cease as you lost confidence amidst the topic that Nori had suddenly resurfaced.

“Are you scared to talk about ‘it’?”

“Maybe a little…”

“Why? It’s normal for couples to talk about these kinds of things. So what was it you were trying to ask me?”

“Um… okay,” you started, taking a deep breath before continuing, “Have you ever thought about… having sex with me?”

“Are you kidding me?” Nori laughed in disbelief, “Of course I have! All the time! What kind of boyfriend doesn’t think about that?”

“I don’t know… you never mentioned it before…”

“Well, I didn’t wanna be the one to initiate it or pressure you into it, so I figured it’d be safer to wait until you told me you were ready.”

Suddenly, you felt embarrassed that you were so worried over something so dumb, but at the same time you were relieved. You were thankful to have such a loving and considerate boyfriend who’s been patiently waiting for the ‘okay’ from you, but now you kind of regret waiting so long to bring up the topic. Communication is important in a relationship and you shouldn’t have been so scared to express how you felt.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pressed another quick kiss to his lips before speaking with a new burst of confidence, “I’ve been ready.”

Nori only smirked in response, carefully laying you down on the couch before getting your permission to remove shorts and panties. He was gentle as he removed each article of clothing, and once he had full access, his thumb went straight to your clit, skillfully rubbing over the sensitive bulb how he knew you liked it. “You’re so wet already,” He gawked as his other fingers wandered down to your wet folds and teased your entrance.

“I’m always wet for you,” you muttered before taking your lower lip between your teeth, brows furrowing as Nori slipped a finger into you and curled it up against your g-spot. Occasionally between curls, he pumped his finger in and out of your slick lips and when you least expected it, during one of those moments he surprised you by sneaking in an extra finger. “Nori!” you moaned out, toes curling and fists clenching at the newly intensified sensation.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to handle the real thing? I’m only using two fingers right now,” he teased before leaning down and pressing his lips to your forehead.

“S-shut up! I— can—” You struggled to make out between breaths, “It f-feels— good—”

With the combined feeling of his two fingers thrusting into you, stimulating your g-spot and his thumb continuing to toy with your clit, it wasn’t long before he had you shaking beneath him as you tried your best to fight back your oncoming orgasm.

“Cum for me,” Nori whispered as his fingers continued to work wonders between your legs.

The sheer sound of his raspy voice resonating in your ear was enough to push you over the edge, pleasure erupting throughout your body as you hit your first climax of the night. When you finally opened your eyes, Nori had quite a pleased look on his face as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats and briefs, pulling them both down in one go. Your mouth watered seeing his erection spring free, the tip already glistening with his essence. He gave himself a couple pumps before positioning himself to your entrance, nervousness etched into his features as he looked up at you for approval before proceeding.

“Wait,” you interrupted as you reached down to grab his cock, gently urging him to scoot closer to you, “It’s our first time y’know… a little extra lube might be a good idea.” With that, you took him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you slid your lips down his length.

“Oh god,” he gasped at your unexpected advance, “Don’t make me cum before we even start...”

You hummed in acknowledgement, unintentionally adding to the sensation you were already giving him and forcing a throaty moan out of him. He only let you continue for a little longer before he withdrew himself from you, repositioning himself to your entrance again.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked, reaffirming that you meant what you said earlier about wanting to go all the way.

“I’m sure,” you replied confidently, giving him a small grin for extra assurance.

“Have you been taking your pills regularly?”

“Yes, I have!” you chuckled, “Are you stalling? Don’t tell me you’re more nervous than me.”

“Of course I’m nervous! I wanna make this a good experience for both of us… it’s a lot of pressure…”

“Don’t think about it too much. If you’re too stressed you won’t be able to enjoy it as much” you cupped his face in his hand as you spoke, “I’m nervous too, but we’ll figure it out together, okay?”

He gave a small nod in response, taking a deep breath before slowly trying to ease himself into you. “Oh my god, you’re... so tight… A-are you okay?” he asked, noticing that you were wincing a little.

“Mhm…” you nodded quickly, “It just hurts a little… but it’s normal...”

“Okay… just… tell me to stop if it hurts a lot okay?”

You nodded again, smiling lovingly as you looked up at him through half lidded eyes. The moment you’d been fantasizing about for so long was finally happening and you couldn’t be happier. You knew it’d be a little bit of a bumpy ride given both of your lack of sexual experience, but the fact that it was with the person who meant the world to you and understood you more than anyone else was what made the experience so perfect.

“Oh my god,” Nori gasped, quickly snapping you out of your thoughts, “Y-you’re bleeding…” When you looked up at him, his eyes were wide and he was completely frozen, like a deer in headlights. “What do I do? Oh my god… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I was just—”

“Keep going,” you interrupted him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “We agreed that I’d tell you to stop if it hurts a lot… and I didn’t tell you to stop.”

“B-but… you’re bleeding?!”

“And it only hurt a little! It’s normal, don’t worry about it. I promise I’ll tell you if something doesn’t feel right.”

“You sure? This just seems so—”

“I’m sure! You’re doing a great job so far, Nori-chan, stop worrying so much, okay?” You felt the tension in his body dissipate once you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, your chaste gesture finally convincing him that you were really okay. After what felt like forever, he continued to cautiously guide his full length into you before slightly retracting and snapping his hips again.

“You feel… amazing, by the way,” he puffed as he continued to meticulously control each of his movements.

“So do you… but go faster,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist for increased proximity.

“I’ll cum if I go faster,” he smiled at you playfully.

“Shut up,” you giggled, lightly slapping him on the shoulder.

Soon after, he complied, his pace gradually starting to pick up filling the empty living room with the sounds or raw sex, the coarse moans falling from both of your lips muffled by bare skin slapping against skin. “Y’know…” Nori started, his voice shaky as he tried to speak between pants, “I was only half joking earlier.”

“Ah-- it’s okay, I- I’m close too,” you struggled to speak over how good he was making you feel. Maybe it was the adrenaline or maybe something else, but you didn’t even realize when the initial pain you’d felt had gone away; you just felt like you were on cloud nine and your whole body was buzzing with anticipation as your peak quickly neared.

As Nori chased his own high, he didn’t dare let down the quick and consistent tempo he managed to maintain up until that point, especially knowing how close you were to cumming. In no more than a minute and a handful of thrusts later, a second and more intense explosion of bliss filled your body making your back arch off the couch and toes curl as you uncontrollably fisted at the back of Nori’s shirt.

The feeling of your walls pulsating around him brought him to his climax shortly after you, leading him to quickly pull out and lift up your shirt just enough for him to release his hot seed onto your stomach. He hung his head as he hovered above you, taking a moment to catch his breath before reaching for some tissues to clean up the mess he’d made.

“Why didn’t you cum inside of me?” you asked wearily as you watched him gently wipe up the last of the sticky substance.

“I was too scared to risk it,” he admitted, tossing the used tissues into the nearest trash can, “Especially for our first time.”

“You’re lame,” you mumbled jokingly.

“That’s what you say after I make you cum twice?” he scoffed as he squished himself onto the couch to lay down next to you.

“Thank you for always being so considerate of me,” you mumbled as you snuggled into him, “I love you.”

“Of course, I only want the best for the best girlfriend in the world. I love you more.”

#daiya no ace #daiya no ace fanfic #ace of diamond #ace of diamond fanfic #kawakami norifumi #kawakami norifumi x reader #kawakami x reader #nori x reader #kawakami norifumi smut #kawakami smut #nori smut #kawakami norifumi fanfic #kawakami fanfic #nori fanfic

31 notes · View notes

sebspocketsquare · 5 years ago

Text

Quarantine 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (online)

A/N: Heya guys! Here’s part 5, sorry it’s been a little bit. I had some trouble with this one because I really just wanted to get to part 6 LOL. Anyway, i hope you enjoy it! -T

Warnings: Flirting, language, quarantine, feels, fluff

The next morning, a string of texts wakes you.

It’s J, letting you know his friend will be by in a couple of hours to install your security system and bring by groceries.

He tells you to double check who’s on the other side of the door before opening it, and informs you that his friend's name is Sam.

Seems simple enough.

You get dressed, deciding to wear something a little nicer than the pajamas you’d been wearing lately. Makeup finds its way to your face and you even manage to brush your hair.

You could at least make yourself look human today, especially since you didn’t know how good of friends J and Sam were.. what if he went right back and told J you looked like you hadn’t bathed in weeks?

That wouldn’t be good for your blossoming relationship…. friendship? Whatever it was.

You’re getting yourself a glass of water when someone knocks at your door.

The couch had been moved back to its original position, and you look through the spyhole on your door to find a man standing there in a doctors mask with a backpack and bags of groceries in hand.

“Can I help you?” You ask through the door.

He makes eye contact with you through the spyhole. “I’m Sam, J’s friend. I’m here to install the security system for you?”

That was convincing enough for you. Opening the door, you offer a small smile. “Hi.. I’m uh.. I’m Clair.”

You can’t tell if he’s smiling through the mask, but he makes his way inside and sets the bags on the floor.

“You mind if I take this off now? I promise I’m not sick.” He motions to the mask and you laugh softly. “No, go ahead. It’s fine. Just uh.. Stay six feet away.”

He removes his mask with a sigh of relief before flashing a pearly smile at you, “I’m Sam. Nice to officially meet you.” He looks familiar for a split second, but you convince yourself you’re merely imagining it.

Sam gets right to work with the install, and you take that time to put away the food and wine he’s brought. It’s too much for just you, it’ll last you months, but with everything that’s going on, you don’t know if you’ll even be ready to leave the house again anytime soon.

You make sure to shoot J a text telling him thank you.

Sam puts a device on each window and in each doorway of your apartment. A keypad is put right by your front door, and a panic button right beside your bed. He helps you set up a 4 digit pin that you’ll need to enter any time you come or go, and shows you how to set the alarm when you go to sleep at night. It’s so simple, but so secure.

J was right. It made you feel better. Safer.

Once everything is completely set up, he pulls a piece of paper from his back pocket and hands it to you. It’s an order form. For your computer and television. You’d made the decision to not let him replace your tablet. He was already doing too much.

“Oh..” is all you can manage to say as you look it over.

Sam chuckles in return, “He um.. he really cares about you, you know..”

Meeting his eyes, you risk asking him a personal question, “What’s your opinion in all of this..? How he feels about me?”

He looks taken back for a moment, but smiles fondly before he answers. “I’ve known him for awhile now, and.. He’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him when he’s talking to you.”

You can’t help but smile at that knowledge.

“And Clair?”

You meet his gaze one more time.

“I know it’s probably weird for you, that he wants to take care of all of this for you, but.. let him. He’s a good man. He doesn’t have any ulterior motives. He just.. when he cares about someone, he’s all in.”

Your heart warms at his words and you nod slowly.

He smiles again before picking up his backpack and heading for the door.

“Hey Sam?”

He turns to you just before he’s out the door.

“Tell J I said hi.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Will do… and don’t tell him what I said about him being a good man and all that… he’ll never let me live it down.”

HIM

I know as soon as the system is installed because a crude outline of her apartment appears on my computer screen.

I set alerts to let me know anytime someone approaches the vicinity, when she leaves and when she sets the alarm for the evening. If she presses the panic button, it alerts the authorities first and then me.

I have to take every precaution to keep her safe.

I’m closing the window on my computer when Sam returns home. I hear him kick his shoes off and set his bag down before heading straight for the shower. He pokes his head in my room on his way there. “System is installed, also.. damn she is way out of your league.”

His observation makes my heart rate increase. “Wait, what? What does that mean?”

He laughs and shakes his head, leaving it at that as he continues on his way.

I find myself suddenly jealous that he’s gotten to see her with his own eyes and I haven’t.

“You could at least describe her for me!” I call after him, to which he just cackles.

My best friend is an asshole.

HER

You’re sitting on the couch watching random videos on your phone when a new message comes through from J.

[Sarge:] Everything go smooth? :)

You’re sure he already knows the answer, and you’re positive that Sam already told him all about you, but you decide to humor him anyway.

[clairv0yant:] Yes. :) Thank you again for everything.. I really appreciate you. I checked the tracking on the form that he gave me and everything should be here by the end of next week.

[Sarge:] Doll, I promise you don’t have to thank me. I’m happy to be able to help you out. :)

[Sarge:] It will be strange not gaming with you every night for a while, but.. We’ll just have to find another way to spend time together.

His words only cause the smile on your face to grow. He’s so sweet. So considerate. So genuine and unfathomably selfless. You weren’t sure what you’d done to earn the affections of such an amazing person.

[Sarge:] By that I mean.. expect phone calls every night ;)

[clairv0yant:] That sounds perfect to me. :P

xxx

You spent more time on the phone with J over the next week and a half than you’d ever spent in your life. Constantly exchanging texts and making phone calls, but never once asking the other for a photo. Not that you weren’t curious, because you surely were, but you were afraid of what he expected you to be like. Did he already have an image of you in his head? An ideal Clair?

You’d tried to picture him several times, but failed at each attempt. He still remained a mystery to you.

When your new tech finally arrives, you nearly jump out of your skin with joy. You make sure to lysol the holy hell out of the shipping boxes before touching them, and once the product inside is removed and placed in the safety of your apartment, the useless cardboard goes into the recycle bin outside.

It takes you an hour and 45 minutes to get everything set up, but of course as soon as you’ve finished, J is insistent about playing.

It’d been so long, there was no way you were denying him.

You missed it just as much as he did.

“You know what I miss most?” You speak into your mic, keeping your eyes trained on the battle scene happening on the screen before you.

J hums a soft, “hmmm?” in response, trying to keep his focus too.

“Mexican food.”

He can’t help but let out a bark of laughter, obviously shocked at your most missed thing while locked away.

“Mexican food? Really?”

It’s your turn to hum a soft, “Mmmhm”.

He’s quiet for a few moments except for the sound of his keyboard clacking as he fights, determined to win this round.

When the word Victory appears on your screen, he speaks again.

“You know I um..” He pauses, and you can feel his anxiety seeping through the internet connection. “Nevermind, heh..”

“What is it?” The first emotion you feel is concern. What could he not feel comfortable telling you?

“Promise you won’t just laugh at me?”

That’s a promise you know you’ll be able to keep. “Of course, J. What’s up?”

There's a bit of silence on his end, and then you swear you hear his adam's apple bob in his throat in a gulp for courage. “When all of this is over, I.. I’d really like to take you out on a date..”

You’re stunned into silence, thankful that a new game has yet to start.

He must take the quiet as a negative response, because he immediately backtracks.

“I-I mean, that’s stupid right? You wouldn’t go on a date with some guy you met online.. Hell, I could be some cree--”

“I would love to.” You cut him off before he can ramble on too much.

“You-really?” You can hear the smile in his voice and it brings an even bigger smile to yours.

“But only if it’s mexican food.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, the rumbling of the sound making your heart flutter.

“I wish..” He stops himself again, letting out a little sigh, “I wish I knew when that would be though.. When all of this will be over.. I just.. I really want to spend time with you, Clair.”

A new match begins in the game, but you’re so distracted by his confession that you almost miss your window to pick your character.

“We’re spending time together right now, aren’t we?” You joke, but there’s a falter to your voice, a doubt. You know what he really means.

“You know what I mean, I.. I want to be there, with you.”

It’s your turn to exhale a sigh.

“I know what you mean..” A funny image comes to your head, and you find it slipping from your tongue before you can stop yourself. “What would a quarantine date consist of anyway? You sitting on the opposite side of my front door drinking beer, while I sit inside drinking wine?”

He’s silent.

Not even a laugh.

It’s a whole two minutes before he speaks again.

“You know.. That could work.”

TAGS: (I wasnt sure who to tag, so if you dont want to be, I’m sorry!! Just trying to get this out there. ALSO if you wanna be tagged INBOX ME! I tend to miss people in the notes :( ). @mindingmyownbusiness @plumfondler @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @loricameback @tinaferraldo @geminimoonbeamx @preserumsteverogers @moderapoppins @lowkeysebby @buckyshattergirl @jayattemptstoruletheworld @the-observant-fangirl @moondancewrites @moonbeambucky @trinityjadec @stevieang @bionic-buckyb @eyecandybarnes @propertyofpoeandbucky @promarvelfangirl @ballyhoobarnes @bucky-plums-barnes @cate-lynne @witchymarvelspacecase @imaginingbucky @theimpossibleg1rl @babygurl8840 @wonderlandmind4 @buckysthing @formulafun @curvybihufflepuff @fanficsformarvelkillme @shadyskit @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @reading–mermaid @fuckmestan @siliverin @verygraphicink @sallyp-53 @thatsbucknasty @steadyphantomcat @booktease21 @kiki5283 @lostinspace33 @drayshadow @theperditioncrasher @mmyepic @feelmyroarrrr@alien-beans @heartsaved @sideeffectsofyou @dreamingofonceuponatime @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @bluerorjhan @tarynsnotokay @jamdropx35 @turquoisekokiri @pinknerdpanda @starkrobb @marvelgirl7 @unscriptedtimetraveler @fangeekkk @wonderlandmind4 @pinkisokay @mrsdaamneron @rynabarnesrogers @wish-i-had-something-better @stanning-seb-stan @oilersgirl35 @vaisabu @paranoid-borderline-insane @bonkywobble @vikki-rogue @witchymegg @a--1--1--3 @margetastic33 @stuffandstuff-stuff

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #online au #quarantine #sebspocetsquare #sometimes i write #series #bucky barnes

185 notes · View notes

lonelyreputation · 4 years ago

Text

C’est Toi (coffee shop au) • CHAPTER FOUR, wc: 3.4k

previous chapter | let’s chat | C’est Toi Index

Saturday - January 19, 2019 - 17:26

I went back to the coffee shop today and Shawn was working. We didn’t talk that much. He seemed a bit out of it, I overheard some customers be a bit rude and I know that can put a person off. I still can’t believe what happened yesterday. For some reason I can never form a sentence around him. He probably thinks I’m insane.

—

I woke up to three consecutive bangs on my door. Not soft morning knocks, absurdly loud and aggressive bangs. I rolled over and checked the time on my phone. Eight o’clock. I rolled over and groaned into my pillow; who on earth would be banging on my door this early?

Realizing that whoever was on the opposite side of my door would stop banging until they got what they wanted, I flung my covers off and trudged my way towards the door. With one last yawn, I unlocked the door and swung it open.

I was met with Ella’s fist up high up in the air, eyebrows raised, surprised that I opened the door.

“Good morning!” She smiled wide.

I did not return her smile, “Yes?”

Ella rolled her eyes and strolled into my room, “Just thought I’d make sure you’re awake––Early bird gets the worm and all that,” she plopped down on my desk chair and spun around, “If I remember correctly, you promised a certain barista you would be at the coffee shop today to do work.”

“It’s eight in the morning.”

“Never too early for romance.”

I grabbed a pillow from my bed and threw it at her stomach, “Let me get dressed.”

Approximately forty-five minutes later, I was dressed appropriately for the dreary London weather; an olive green sweater, jeans, and brown ankle boots. Once I double checked to make sure I had all of my textbooks for a day of hunkering down to study, I adjusted my canvas bag on my shoulder and called over to Ella.

“Took you long enough,” she snarled as she grabbed her own bag off the floor.

“Relax,” I told her as I closed my door and pulled out my key to lock it, “It’s early Saturday morning, people are probably still asleep from their wild escapades the night before.”

“It’s still a Saturday morning,” Ella stressed her point as I placed my hand on the handle to make sure my door was locked, “Londoners like brunch or just grab a morning coffee––We need to get there fast.”

“We’ll be fine, Ella.” I pressed the elevator button to bring us down.

Once the door dinged, we walked into the elevator and Ella pressed the ground floor level, “Yeah you’re probably right, we’re fine,” Ella mocked my accent as the doors closed, “Shawn probably has a table saved for you.”

I blushed and ignored her comment. Right after I had stumbled over my words asking for his name, I immediately called Ella and yelled out all of my anxieties over the phone.

He probably thinks I’m an idiot––A stupid study abroad student––How will I be able to show up again––And oh my God, Niall and Lola were there too and they probably think I’m a psychopath––They probably talked about me right after I left.

And while I felt some of the anxiety leave my system, it was never fully gone. Instead, the anxiety felt as if it was recycled into my body, not caring that I felt ready to throw up at any given moment.

Ella tried to calm me down, but it didn’t work. With every reassuring sentence she gave me, I came up with three more worrying thoughts that circled around my head. Mix in my embarrassment in front of Shawn and being late for my lecture, my leg bounced throughout the whole hour and a half, with the girl sitting next to me only glaring at me once when my knee hit the bottom of the table.

“So what’s your move now?” Ella asked as we made our way out of the Temple underground station and walked up the steps to the main road.

I tilted my head, “My move?” I slowed down my pace to trail behind her for a second as a woman walking her dog came down the opposite side of the sidewalk, “What do you mean?”

“Well you obviously need to get his number now,” Ella spoke as if this was written in a step-by-step tutorial on how to get a guy to like to like you back.

My legs stopped moving on their own account, “There’s no way I would be able to ask him for that.”

Ella rolled her eyes and grabbed ahold of your wrist, telling you to walk, “You’re over exaggerating––“

“I’m not!” my voice was shrill, “If you saw how I was yesterday you would not be encouraging this. In fact,” I said as we were coming up to the familiar doors of the coffee shop, “You would probably suggest I never show my face here again.”

Ella slowed down her walking and paused right outside of the front door, “If you’re not comfortable going in, we can go somewhere else.”

As encouraging as Ella had been in my slow and silent pursuit of the Canadian barista, she was giving an out. She was saying that I didn’t have to do this if I didn’t want to; that I never had to see him again and she wouldn’t bother me about it anymore.

But did I never want to walk through the door again?

It was tempting, my embarrassment slowly clawing its way up from the depths of my stomach, but the feeling of sorrow overshadowed all of those emotions. I knew I would be sad if I stopped going to the little coffee shop I had equated as a safe escape from the city. I would regret it if I let childish feelings get in the way of an enjoyable study spot. And I knew I would mourn the sight brown curls that had a tendency to peak over the espresso machine.

I would find my way back here one way or another.

Without saying another word, I took a few brave steps forward and was met with a gust of espresso smelling air as I opened the door.

It was quiet when we walked in, my eyes scanned around the room and saw a few open tables, but then my eyes were instantly drawn to the barista at the front counter. He was behind the register, looking down at what was presumably his phone, with a frown on his face.

I had become accustomed to walking through the doors with a bright smile, kind eyes, and an enthusiastic shout of my name. But this time, I wasn’t met with any of what I was familiar with.

Ella nudged my shoulder, knocking me from my place in the middle of the doorway, as we walked up to the counter to order our drinks. We stood there for a few seconds, waiting to see if his attention could be easily taken from his phone, but it took a signature snarl from Ella for his head to pop up.

“Bit rude to be on the phone when you have customers waiting.”

My mouth dropped down, shocked she was so blunt with her accusations. If anything, Ella knew how attentive Shawn was when he worked from all of the rambling I did. But she didn’t hold back her offense of being ignored as she slightly leaned back, arms folded across her chest, with her eyebrows raised high.

“Oh, I’m so sorry––I really didn’t hear anyone come in and––McLane,” his rambling stopped as he registered my presence. A small smile graced his lips and a small flame of fire erupted in my stomach, “Hi.”

“Hey,” I offered him a greeting as weak as his own.

Before any more words were said, he extended his arm to grab a yellow cup from the side, “Latte?” His eyes briefly looked into mine as he wrote my name.

“Yeah,” I answered, “That’d be great.”

Something wasn’t settling right with me. It was a bit selfish of me to expect a grand welcome every time I walked in, but now it only made me more confused seeing as he wasn’t even trying to make conversation.

Did his co-workers say something about me?

He set my cup to the side, arm outstretched again toward the stack of different colored cups that determined the size, as he waited to see Ella’s order, “And for you…” I could see the wheels in his head turning trying to remember her name.

“Ella,” she said with a bit of edge, “I’ll just do an americano, small.”

He grabbed a purple cup from the side, “Ella,” he repeated her name in a whisper, as if he was trying to remember it for the next time she came in, but his voice was distant and there was no way he would remember it for when she would come up for a second drink.

He rang up the orders separately and I dropped my change into the bowl next to the register.

“I’ll call your names when they’re ready.”

And without a second glance over his shoulder, he was already off to the espresso machine, turning on the noisy machine to grind the beans together.

“Geez,” Ella mumbled as the two of us made our way to the large table we sat at yesterday, “What’d you do to him?”

I paused my movements of pulling out the chair as I felt a bundle of nerves fly up my throat at lightning speed and then fall straight down into my stomach. Had I done something to him yesterday? Did I embarrass him in front of his co-workers to the point where he was uncomfortable around me? I looked questionably at Ella, eyes full of worry. If I had messed up, she would be the one to know.

Quickly, Ella’s eyes widened as she shook her head rapidly, “No––no, sorry, love,” she offered me a sympathetic smile, “That was a poor joke. I’m sure he’s just had a shitty day.”

And a shitty day he had.

I was only thirty minutes into studying when I heard a customer walk back up to the counter and complain about how the avocados on their sandwich were sliced too thick. Then twenty minutes later, a woman who had ordered a dry cappuccino, slammed her cup down on the counter and complained how there was too much foam in her drink and not enough milk. And an hour after that, someone complained that their juice wasn’t blended up enough.

With every turn of my textbook page, I heard a complaint. Instead of the charisma I was so used to hearing in his voice, I just heard a deep sigh. Even sitting at a table a few feet away from the counter, I could feel the unsteadiness of his work ethic.

Ella pushed her chair back from the table with an ear screeching noise as she went up to order another drink. She wasn’t gone for very long, her hand curved around a yellow cup with a tea bag in it as she grumbled, “Didn’t even remember my name,” she sat back down and continued to read where she left off, “Arsehole.”

Once noon started to roll around, the coffee rush started to pick up, and luckily Niall had shown up and taken up residence at the register; sending Shawn to the espresso machine to have as little contact with people as possible. Niall beamed at customers that walked through the door, held light-hearted banter when appropriate, and kept the shop afloat as Shawn felt like he was sinking.

With a kick to my shin, I looked up from my notebook with eyebrows scrunched together in annoyance. Ella paid no mind in answering why she had kicked me under the table, “Go check up on him,” she nudged her head over to the espresso bar. I quickly glanced over my shoulder to see Shawn leaned up against the far back counter, eyes staring at his phone, with a frown on his face, “It’s not busy.”

“I could use a refill anyway.”

A caring smile was placed on Ella’s face as she nodded, “I’m sure you’d brighten up his day.”

I ignored her encouraging words that for once didn’t hold a teasing tone as I felt my cheeks heat up. Unlike how Ella loudly moved her chair back, I made sure to ease my way out of the chair without an attention grabbing noise.

I took my yellow cup with me, crushed it before throwing it out, and walked up to the counter. Upon seeing it was me, Niall’s smile faltered slightly as he let out a sigh of relief, “Thank fuck it’s you,” I let out a small laugh, not knowing if I should take that statement positively or negatively, “I think my face is ‘bout to break with how much I’ve been smilin’.”

I nodded my head, “Yeah, from what I’ve overheard it hasn’t been…” my words trailed off as I let my eyes wander to Shawn. He was still leaned up against the counter, looking at his phone, lips tugged downward, “…the best.”

Niall followed my gaze and let out a sigh as he leaned in close, “Had it really tough this morning, someone overslept and didn’t open the shop on time so he had to rush to get here,” Niall said sadly as he grabbed a yellow cup for me, “Comes all the way from St. John’s Wood on his day off,” he wrote my name on the cup and set it aside, “Bloody hell…If I was the manager.”

“Manager?”

Not once in our conversations had Shawn mentioned he was the manager of the coffee shop. I glanced over at him once more and then looked back into Niall’s piercing blue eyes. Manager? He looked so young to be in charge of a store front, I thought to myself. And the more I thought back to our conversations we shared, the more I realized it was just me and my rambling self who did most of the talking. I didn’t know much about him.

Niall nodded his head and offered you a soft smile and spoke in the same caring tone Ella had sent you off with, “It’d do him good talking to you.”

Ignoring the tingling feeling in my stomach at everyone’s reassurance that I could be the one to cheer him up, I took out a five note and handed it over to Niall. He shook his head, “On me,” he tipped his head over to where Shawn was standing, “Cheer him up.”

“Shawn,” Niall gently called over his shoulder. Shawn picked his head up and let out a hum in response, “Got an order,” he smiled before sliding the empty yellow cup down the counter.

At the mention of having to make a coffee, Shawn’s shoulders dropped and I felt bad for him as I saw the tiredness in his eyes. Without looking at me, he took the yellow cup, placed it down next to the espresso machine, and started grinding the beans together.

I looked over at Niall with wide eyes pleading for help. But all he did was offer me a shrug and went back to playing around with the buttons on the iPad.

Instead of going back to my seat and waiting for my name to be called like I usually would, I stayed put out the counter, waiting for Shawn to notice my presence. He had the espresso beans ground up in the puck and when he popped back up from grabbing the milk from the fridge under the counter, he noticed me.

“McLane,” his voice sounded more relaxed than from when I first walked in, “I didn’t know it was for you.” He held up the yellow cup.

I let out an awkward laugh, “Yeah…Back for a second cup.”

Shawn nodded his head, pouring the milk in the silver frothing pitcher, “How do you drink so much caffeine? I swear you come up and order at least two a day.”

I order so much so I can have an excuse to talk to you, the truth rang through my head, but I knew I couldn’t say that to him.

“I’ll literally fall asleep at the table if I don’t have a cup,” I lied, “Need to be able to study.”

Shawn let out a chuckle. It wasn’t a full on laugh like I was used to hearing, but it was something that flipped the slight downward turn of his mouth into a pull of a smile, “I’m sure you have top marks.”

I waved a hand in the air at his comment, “Definitely not.”

When he was done frothing the milk, he tapped the pitcher on the counter a few times before concentrating really hard on pouring it into the yellow cup, he peaked up at me a few times, a curl dangling in front of his forehead, “You’re in here studying all the time,” his eyes faced down at the coffee as he moved the pitcher up and down, making a design, “Got a lot of knowledge in that pretty little head of yours.”

Luckily, he set the coffee down and I didn’t have to reply. I didn't know how to respond to that compliment except with a blush on my cheeks.

I smiled down at the latte art he attempted to create, “It’s a really nice flower.”

“It’s supposed to be three hearts.”

My eyes widened, embarrassed that I mistook his art for something else. Oh God, I thought to myself, I should’ve just waited until he told me what it was. I picked my head up, with my eyes doubling in size, when I saw that he was being serious about the art being three hearts.

“Oh wow, how could I not see that––My eyes––I have terrible vision because that––the three hearts…” my rambling slowed down as I felt the beat of my heart increasing in speed every time Shawn’s smile grew wider, “…Your latte art is really good.”

“You think?”

I nodded my head and bit the inside of my cheek to keep my grin at bay, not wanting to let him in on how happy our tiny conversations make me, “The best.”

Shawn gently placed the latte on the counter and pushed it toward me, “I’ll tell Niall to refund the coffee,” the smile hadn’t left his face, “As a thank you for cheering me up.”

I shook my head as I reached out to wrap my hands around the warm cup, “Niall already covered it for me.”

His smile faltered and I was scared that I said something wrong. Maybe Niall wasn’t supposed to give out free drinks. Shawn is the manager after all, he probably gets the final decision on who does and doesn’t get a free coffee.

But slowly, Shawn’s smile reappeared into a small smirk, “Bastard beat me to it.”

I tilted my head and scrunched up my eyebrows in confusion, “Beat you to what?”

“Buying you a coffee.”

Luckily the cup of coffee was still on the counter or else I would’ve dropped it. I averted my gaze from his eyes, to the three hearts in the coffee, wondering what I was going to say. But for once, I didn’t think for too long and said the first thing that popped into my head, “There’s always another time.”

Shawn smiled, “Tomorrow?”

I nodded my head as I picked up my cup of coffee, taking a sip of the contents that, just like our conversation, filled me up with warmth, “Tomorrow.”

I walked back to Ella with a smile on my face and a new motivation to study.

Her head was buried deep in her textbook, but when she heard the soft sound of the paper cup being set down on the table and heard the soft squeak of the chair I pulled back, she lifted her head up. A smile took over her face, and then she quickly looked over my shoulder and her smile widened as she looked into my eyes, “Good chat?”

“Yeah,” I said in a dreamlike manner as I heard the ring of a bell above the door, and the voice I had just had a conversation with, filled with its familiar charisma, “Good chat.”

A/N: A sweet little chapter for you 😌 I’m pretty sure it’s been more than 10 days since I’ve updated skdfjlk my bad I have to plan more so I’m trying to fit everything in with a flow! And expect some angst coming up 😌

Happy Wednesday! Can’t believe we’re halfway through the week again why has 2020 seemed like the absolute longest year but also has picked up some speed?? Wild. I hate thinking about the concept of time. Anyway…I hope you all enjoyed it!! Chapter Q for you: when you’re having a bad day, who is a person that always seems to cheer you?

Thank you thank you thank you for all of your support!!! I love you all with my whole heart and cry into my tea whenever I see any comments on C’est Toi bc this is definitely a piece of work that I hold near and dear to my heart 🥺 THANKS A MILLION EVERYONE!!!! I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!! AHH!!💖🥂✨

taglist: @mendesficsxbombay @5-seconds-of-mendes

36 notes · View notes

themattress · 4 years ago

Video

youtube

Using this video as a segue into this post, which ignores the dregs of the Fandom Menace who were never going to like this movie and just distills the five main points made by critics.

1. It threw away what The Last Jedi established. 2. It's too chock-full of stuff and with too rushed a pace. 3. It has no deep themes and nothing insightful to say. 4. It lacks imagination and is all rehashing and nostalgia-bait fanservice. 5. It's a disappointing ending to both a trilogy and a nine-film saga.

1. This criticism seems to recur the most, since critics didn’t just like TLJ and Rian Johnson’s vision for the franchise, they loved it; they were blown away by it. So naturally it cuts deep when they see TROS set back a lot of what TLJ established (Rey actually does come from a noteworthy lineage, actually does have to undergo true Jedi training, and even ends up becoming a Skywalker. Finn is back to hanging out with Rey rather than Rose, and Rose herself has a minor role. Poe is prone to being reckless and hot-tempered again. Luke isn’t a grumpy old man anymore. Kylo Ren, after reforging his old mask, is redeemed while a decrepit old wielder of the Dark Side is the Big Bad. Hux doesn’t get much of a role and is killed off midway through. The Force-sensitive children like that “broom boy” don’t factor into anything. The story takes a familiar path rather than subverting audience expectations.) Honest Trailers even joked that the film was the long-awaited sequel to The Force Awakens rather than to The Last Jedi. And I can understand this critique, it’s a valid one to make.

But I’d also have to argue that not only is J.J Abrams entitled to bring the story back in line with his old ideas from his time making TFA since Disney and Lucasfilm specifically reached out to him to direct TROS (and c’mon, Rian Johnson threw out TFA’s establishment first, if it’s wrong of J.J then it was wrong of Rian too), and that a film that exactly followed TLJ’s establishment like Colin Trevorrow’s unproduced Duel of the Fates would feel too bleak and wrong for the franchise, but that the movie doesn’t ignore TLJ as much as it’s made out. The events of TLJ still happened exactly as we saw them, they are still acknowledged, and they are even built upon in interesting ways. I loved seeing Luke no longer a grumpy old man because that’s what TLJ’s climax set up with him: he learned the error of his ways and re-embraced his status as a Jedi and as a legend. The galaxy coming to the Resistance’s aid in the final battle is the perfect pay-off to them not doing so in the Battle of Crait and shows how Luke’s last stand really did inspire hope once more. I loved the three-way power struggle in the First Order between Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Hux and (representing Palpatine’s interests) Pryde. I thought Palpatine being behind Snoke made perfect sense. I’m glad Rose was still present at all. I though Kylo Ren’s redemption was handled very well. And I loved Rey becoming a Skywalker in the end, that just felt like such a right conclusion to me.

2. There’s an easy explanation as to why it’s chock-full with stuff - Kathleen Kennedy didn’t require Rian Johnson to adapt any of it in TLJ even though much of it was conceived by J.J Abrams and Lawrence Kasdan when making TFA. J.J literally needed to fit two movies’ worth of content into this one movie because TLJ spent too much time wheel-spinning and navel-gazing (and keep in mind that I like TLJ; but I’m not going to pretend like it didn’t screw the pooch on multiple fronts). As for the pace, I definitely agree when it comes to the first act and whoever thought it was a good idea to excise so much of what was filmed for it needs to be slapped upside-down the head. But things start to improve after the big Pasaana canyon race, and once they get off Pasaana altogether the pace settles down into the usual SW film groove. I think critics were so burned by that first half-hour that it colored their impression of the rest of the film, even when looking at it objectively the rest of the film does have a lot more breathing room and calmer, introspective moments between the big action set pieces.

3. I see this a lot from critics and am all...?????? I’m sorry, did we watch the same movie!? “They win by making you think you’re alone, but there’s more of us”. “Your mother’s gone. But what she stood for, what she fought for.... that’s not gone.” “We had each other. That’s how we won.” “Your spirit...your heart...some things are stronger than blood”. These themes are every bit as spelled out as the themes from TLJ that critics praised so much...but then, critics thought that one of TLJ’s themes was the villain’s justification of his own atrocities (”Let the past die. Kill it, if you have to”) so maybe them missing all of these themes isn’t so surprising.

4. First off, the “lacking imagination” criticism will always astound me when The Force Awakens is one of the most critically praised films in the series and it literally ripped off the entire plot structure of A New Hope. None of the “member berries” in this film came close to that level of rehashing. Secondly, Star Wars has been all about nostalgia and pleasing crowds (”fanservice”) since its inception, and recycling various set-ups and tropes and sequences has been a thing for a long time (to quote George Lucas: “It’s like poetry, they rhyme.”) And lastly, this is the finale to the Skywalker Saga, so of fucking course it’ll be full of nostalgia and fanservice and sequences reminiscent of all the previous films! It’s a celebration as well as a send-off! Avengers: Endgame is a critical darling, and it literally traveled back in time to several of the past movies that led up to it! So what’s the problem here? I, for one, thought it was very cleverly and seamlessly done for the most part, and being done in the framework of a dumb, goofy blockbuster (which was all Star Wars was originally meant to be; it was never meant to be taken as seriously as it unfortunately has).

5. The main reasoning behind this criticism is that TROS fully exposes and embodies Disney and Lucasfilm’s lack of planning when it came to the Sequel Trilogy, which is so disheartening that it makes this finale a disappointing one to both the trilogy and the whole saga. First of all, every finale has been considered disappointing in their times: ROTJ was possibly even more loathed by fans and critics (while still enjoyed by general audiences) than TROS, and while ROTS got middling reviews from critics, it was still considered to be flat-out bad just like its predecessors by fans - being the least bad of them wasn’t high praise (even the general audience enjoyment seemed more tepid compared to ROTJ and TROS). On all fronts, the perception of the movies only improved with age, so that will likely be the same case here.

More importantly, anyone who did their homework or even some simple critical thinking not only could have realized that there was no plan for the Sequel Trilogy from the days of TLJ, but from the days of TFA. From the moment that movie rehashed the plot of A New Hope and relied heavily on Mystery Boxes to hook viewers, I knew there was no solid plan for this trilogy and that they were making it up as they went along. When you’re aware of this fact well in advance, I think that you end up being more impressed by TROS for being able to wrap the trilogy and saga up in the tight, definitively close-ended way that it did. I know that I certainly was. Much of this had to do with J.J Abram’s idea to bring back Palpatine. People whine that he was brought in with no foreshadowing at the last minute and that he was nowhere near the Sequel Trilogy beforehand and that him being here makes ROTJ pointless, and yet not only was Palpatine everywhere near the whole saga from the very beginning (which, as J.J has said, would make it bizarre for it to end without him), but ROTJ was already made pointless by TFA by its decision to reverse all the heroes’ victories and bring back the Empire. If Palpatine, the Emperor, the very creator of the Empire, did not find a way to return from his defeat in ROTJ and was thus not behind the Empire’s resurrection, how fucking cheap would that be? Some random other decrepit, all-powerful Dark Side wielder just came along and brought it back to the point of reversing all the heroes’ victories? And then he gets supplanted by Han and Leia’s son, which would make the Sequel Trilogy and whole saga’s Final Boss the guy who humiliatingly got his ass handed to him in both previous films’ climaxes? IMHO, the Sequel Trilogy really would suck if that was what it amounted to! That would be a true “disappointing ending to both a trilogy and a nine-film saga.” When it comes to the film series (the Skywalker Saga), the only valid excuse for not ending the conflict with the Empire in ROTJ is if the Emperor wasn’t truly vanquished in it. Period.

It ain’t J.J’s fault that he was actually looking at the bigger picture while critics were not.

Bonus: another video plug, because this guy is a Star Wars fan that truly deserves it.

#Star Wars #The Rise of Skywalker #Opinion #Analysis #Defense #This has been a PSA

6 notes · View notes

5ivebyfive · 4 years ago

Text

pride month challenge - day thirteen - first kiss trimberly - roommate problems

Kimberly Hart was on a mission. Kimberly Hart was never one to be deterred from something that she wanted. Kimberly Hart wanted Trini Gomez to smile at her again.

Kim and the other Rangers had a week before their Angel Grove Community College courses began, and they had been living in their new (old) rented house for two weeks. They were still settling in and unpacking. Well, Kim was anyway. The others had been unpacking since day one. Kim was more...living out of her boxes and digging things out as she needed them. She was spending half her week at training and the other half at the beach, and that didn’t leave a lot of time for serious unpacking. She didn’t mind, but she knew Trini was getting irritated. Their house had three bedrooms. Trini and Kim shared the master bedroom with a private bathroom, Jason and Zack shared another bedroom, and Billy had his own room. They all knew he needed his space and they didn’t mind it. So it was Trini’s and Kim’s shared room that was a mess of Kim’s things while Trini’s side looked neat and orderly. Kim tried to keep her half of the room neat, really she did, but she was easily distracted by life and the excitement of living on her own for the first time.

However, the night before Trini had finally gone off. She yelled about how Kim needed to be responsible for the fact that they shared a living space and respectful of the space and of Trini. Kim took it as a personal attack that she didn’t respect Trini herself and she yelled back. Each word shared not only pissed her off, but sent a fire off in Kim that reminded her how much she liked Trini and how attracted to the smaller girl she was. She had been since they became Rangers and it had only gotten worse. Trini chose to spend the previous night on the couch to get distance from Kim, and it made Kim sad. It had only been two weeks, but she was used to the comfort of having Trini in the room every night. Kim barely slept all night. She tried, but she felt guilty for her part in the fight. It felt weird sleeping without Trini beneath her. In shopping for a smaller bed that would fit their shared room, Kim had talked Trini into getting bunk beds so that they’d have more space in the bedroom. And because she wanted the top bed. She had been sleeping so well knowing that Trini was in the bed below hers every night, but that night...not so much.

Sometime before dawn broke she got out of bed and put on her earbuds with music blaring and opened a box. Slowly and painstakingly, she emptied the box and moved on to another. She put everything away in its place neatly and began stacking empty boxes by the door. She had some things that had to remain in boxes until she had a better place to put them, and those things she left in a neat stack of boxes next to the bathroom. She got lost in her work and was surprised when she tossed the last box aside. She looked around the room. It looked better, but not perfect. She went around the room and picked up anything out of place and found a place for it. Then it finally looked good.

Kim crept out of the bedroom to get a knife and break down the empty boxes and she piled them by the back door for recycling. She found an empty closet in the back of the house and put her unpacked boxes in it. She went into the kitchen and took down the fancy coffee her parents had given her that she hadn’t let the others use, and she brewed a pot of it. When it was ready she poured a cup, black, and carried it out into the living room. Trini was asleep on the couch with her face free of it’s usual scowl lines. She looked beautiful. Kim just watched her for a while. She had been trying for some time to find a way to ask Trini out. She wasn’t positive Trini felt the same way, but she was sure she felt something between them at times. She would doubt herself and tell herself she was seeing what she wanted to see, but there were just times that it couldn’t be denied. It felt like they were both waiting for something, and Kim wasn’t sure what that was. For herself, probably to avoid heartache. It wasn’t just a crush for her anymore. She had real feelings for Trini. She watched Trini’s nose wrinkle and she smiled at how cute it was. She moved over and sat on the edge of the couch by Trini’s waist. She brushed the bedhead back behind Trini’s ear.

“Hey you,” she murmured. Trini mumbled incoherently and tried to burrow under her blanket. “Nuh uh,” Kim said, tugging it down. “I have something for you.”

“Slept like shit,” Trini grumbled. “This couch sucks.”

“Well, it is second hand,” Kim commented. “And you have a perfectly comfortable bed in our room.”

“You mean when I can find my bed?”

“You know that coffee my parents buy that you love so much?” Kim asked. She waved it under Trini’s nose. “They got some for us.”

Trini inhaled and started to sit up. “That’s good coffee.”

“The sooner you start drinking it the more you get to have before the guys wake up,” Kim suggested. Trini took the mug with narrowed eyes and sipped at it. Kim chuckled and watched Trini sigh with content. “I’m sorry about last night. I’m sorry for what I said.”

“So you don’t think I’m an uptight clean freak?”

“No,” Kim shook her head. “I think you’re neat and organized, and I respect it. I was just mad. You know I can be...irrational,” she rolled her eyes at the word, ”when I’m mad.” Trini continued to drink her coffee quietly so Kim decided to go on. “I’m sorry I let my stuff get so bad, but that’s not how it’s going to be.” She considered her own words and shrugged. “Not all the time.” She watched Trini glance up to meet her eyes and they stared at each other for a long time. Something that had been happening a lot recently. The eye contact Kim shared with Trini was unlike anything else. It was thick and nearly suffocating, but in a good way.

“We gotta set some ground rules,” Trini said finally. “Otherwise we’re gonna fight all the time, and I don’t wanna fight with you.”

“I don’t want to fight with you either,” Kim said. She pulled the blanket down further to take Trini’s hand. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

“Just...trust me?” Kim asked, batting her large brown eyes.

“Of course, Princess,” Trini replied, getting up. The nickname sent a fluttering through Kim like it always did. She loved it. It made her feel special in a way she never had before. She got up and led Trini back to their bedroom, the only one on the ground floor, and she pulled Trini inside. She watched Trini take in the clean, unpacked room slowly. Trini’s eyes eventually landed on Kim. “You...did all of this already?”

“I need my best friend in our room at night,” Kim shrugged.

“Scared of the shadows?” Trini teased.

“No. Scared of not having you near me,” Kim said softly.

“I didn’t think Kimberly Hart was scared of anything,” Trini said. Kim stared down at Trini who was standing kind of close to her and gazing up at her, and some kind of strength came over her.

“She’s scared of a couple things,” Kim said softly.

“Do I need to hold your hand?” Trini teased, taking Kim’s hand.

“That helps.” The moment had gotten so much thicker and intense, and Kim had a feeling that Trini felt it, too.

“What else are you scared of?” Trini asked softly.

“You,” Kim murmured.

“Me? Why me?”

Kim tried to think of the right words to explain what she meant, but nothing seemed right. Nothing that didn’t sound cliche. In that moment she knew she had two choices. She could make a joke and shrug it off or she could throw it all on the line. She always had been one to be reckless, though. She circled an arm around Trini’s waist, dipped down, and kissed her. There was a moment where she thought she had made a colossal mistake, but then Trini started to kiss her back. Kim understood finally what it meant to feel her toes curl. She broke the kiss, the smile on her lips too big to hold back, and she looked at Trini.

“That,” Kim whispered. “That was terrifying.”

“Felt kinda good to me.”

“Felt really good,” Kim clarified.

“Yeah...it did.” Trini’s gaze fell down to her coffee cup. “Why now?”

“I don’t know,” Kim said honestly. “Last night was the biggest fight we’ve ever had and we’ve only been living together for two weeks. I don’t want it to be...an indication of how living together is going to be.”

“It was one fight,” Trini said.

“I don’t like fighting with you,” Kim replied. “I don’t like when you’re mad at me. It’s probably my least favorite thing in the world.”

“Mine, too. But...why now?” Trini gazed up at Kim and trailed a finger along the collar of her tee shirt.

“I guess...because I need you to know how sorry I am and how much I care about you.”

“So you kissed me…”

“Well, I’ve been wanting to since I first chased you up a cliff,” Kim said with a smirk.

“I see.”

“Was it a bad idea?”

“Nah, you shoulda done it a long time ago,” Trini said. She took Kim’s hand and tugged her towards the bottom bunk where the both sat back. “You should make it up to me now. With more.”

Kim took Trini’s coffee cup and put it on the bedside table before leaning back into her. “I can do that.” And she got lost in the soft smile Trini gave her for a while, but finally closed the distance and kissed her again.

Mission accomplished.

#trimberly #trimberly fic #my fics #pm2020challenge tag #otp; trimberly against the world

44 notes · View notes

illshowyourhurricanes · 4 years ago

Text

Mississippi Delta Magic

Here’s another filled request, and it’s about our traveling music man with a heart of gold, soul of fire, and fingers of a true virtuoso-- none other than Ryan Brenner. And what a life he has to write about! This was requested by the lovely @witchygagirl as follows:

This one is actually unrelated to A Familiar Face or my other related one-shots, so it’s a stand-alone piece! Thank you for reading, as always, and enjoy!

Image prompt 11: Ryan Brenner x reader

Rating: PG for fluff and more fluff, with a side of fluff.

Word count: 1879

Tag list: @obscurilicious @the-blind-assassin-12 @something-tofightfor @logan-deloss @lexxierave @madamrogers @yannii04 @gollyderek @carlaangel86 @bicevans @maydayfigment @thisisparadisemylove @malionnes @thesandbeneathmytoes @crushed-pink-petals-writes @delos-destinations @luminex3 @tenhargreeves @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @fific7

As always, if you’d like to be added to or removed from my tag list, just shoot me an ask or DM.

Special thanks to @something-tofightfor for beta reading!

“I went to the depot, looked up at the stars. Cried, some train don’t come, there’ll be some walkin’ done.”

When Ryan strummed his guitar, it was magic. The music floated through the air in D and A minor, an arpeggio of time that was broken down and descended. If you closed your eyes, you were sitting outside in Mississippi on a balmy summer night, dewy grass dampening your skirt as you watched fireflies blink out of time while you drank homemade moonshine. It was 1931 and Prohibition was in full swing, but your daddy didn’t care and neither did his backwoods friends.

Ryan’s smooth-as-silk voice and long fingers dancing and picking guitar strings was your backdrop, and you’d always find your eyes fluttering shut during that one particular song, fully invested in your daydream. A small smile would tug at the corners of your lips, and Ryan knew why. You’d told him about your little fantasy late one night after too much Bayou Teche. You’d gotten it shipped to chill inside the refrigerator until Ryan arrived, and by the time he was gone, each of you had halved the beer until all you had left was empty, brown glass bottles.

The Geeshie Wiley tune was one of Ryan’s standards when he was off busking between hopping freight trains to his next destination. He played covers mostly, and most people seemed to recognize Last Kind Words, even with a male voice singing the lyrics. You’d heard him play it dozens of times, whether out on the street surrounded by a small audience or the comfort of your front porch steps. No matter how many times, you were always transported back in time.

It had been a humid, cloudy night in May, spring melting into summer as you sat next to Ryan on your old wooden porch swing, hung by rusted wooden chains. Your eyes were heavy; you were drowsy and instead of Ryan’s guitar in his lap, it was a small black book and a old, chewed up PaperMate pen— no frills, clear plastic showing an ink cartridge that was two-thirds used up, cap off and stuck on the pen’s end.

Your eyes had drifted shut, your head resting on Ryan’s right shoulder. Almost asleep, you felt Ryan’s weight shift and the swing beneath you sway out of time. Eyelids popping open, you lifted your head as Ryan sat back upright, a scrap of sheet music pinned between his thumb and long, tattooed index finger. You saw that the paper was singed at the edges and just a partial page— less than half, the ink beginning to fade. Always learning about Ryan, you smiled softly as he tucked it back between two blank pages of his book.

“I didn’t know you could read sheet music,” you spoke, Ryan’s head turning to look at you.

“A little… sorry I woke you up, Y/N.” The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile as he looked at you with those eyes a few shades darker than chestnut. Reaching up, he softly brushed wayward hair behind your ear.

Drowsy eyes meeting his own, you shook your head. “I didn’t realize I fell asleep… what’s the song?”

Ryan closed his book, capped his pen, and the swing tilted as he set his notebook on the stained wooden planks of the porch. When he was upright again, he shifted in order to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pull you closer. You breathed in deeply, always trying to memorize his scent-- the organic smell of the outdoors, tinged with soap from his shower. He kissed the crown of your head before answering.

“ ‘S one that you know,” he spoke softly, in a low voice. The music of night-- the chirping of crickets, croaking of frogs, screeching of owls and rustles of leaves under the tiny feet of rodents all went unnoticed when he spoke. It was no matter that his voice was barely above a whisper. “I’d be bold enough to say it’s even a favorite… might be a favorite of mine if I was forced to pick.”

You thought for a moment, a small furrow settling in your brow. “That’s pretty general, Brenner. You sing Happy Birthday, and it would be my favorite.”

Ryan only responded with a chuckle; he was really playing this game. With a slight squeeze of your shoulder, he finally spoke, but only to set one ground rule: “Only yes or no questions, Y/N.”

The smile he’d put on your face grew into a grin; there was an infinite list of things you loved about Ryan Brenner, and his moments of playfulness were high up there. They accompanied your love for his introspective nature, the fearless lifestyle he lived with a streak of adventure, how his overgrown hair tended to fall over his forehead in the same spot, how his voice transported you to another time… another time.

“Last Kind Words,” you guessed, putting just enough distance between the two of you to look up at his face and gauge a reaction. Ryan’s lips quirked, and his brow raised slightly in appreciation.

“I didn’t know you read sheet music,” he joked lightly, punctuating the recycling of your words with a wink.

It was the littlest of things that still uncaged the butterflies in your stomach, the familiar fluttering of their painted wings flickering in your abdomen. All it took was an unconscious hum, or a quick meeting of your eyes with his… a wink to make you feel like you could fly.

“Do I win a performance?” Catching his eyes with yours, you knew he would see the ‘I love you’ there without words. Ryan was in tune with everything he was presented, attentive and never distracted. You paused, the look in your eyes changing from one of pride and internal laughter to a slight curiousness.

“You know the song,” you thought aloud, obviously introspective, “What’s a little scrap of its sheet music for? Burned at the ends, at that.”

Ryan hummed, and for one beat of time, you saw a faraway nostalgia in his eyes. “Somthin’ I’ve been carryin’ with me since I left Virginia.” Ryan never referred to home as anything other than Virginia. “Used to be a full sheet, too.”

You knew that there was a significance; a story. How much Ryan would reveal was the only mystery, and something you’d grown to appreciate. He expressed closeness and intimacy in his own, unique ways that you had learned to understand. And Ryan continued.

“When I was… let’s say, younger than ten, my grampa found me hidin’ in the garage strummin’ on his guitar. I was already figurin’ I was gettin’ the belt, but he just came an’ he sat down. ‘You don’t learn chords, boy, you don’t bother touchin’ it, ya hear?’ Later that night, he gave me this sheet, just part of the song, didn’t say nothin’.” He’d averted his eyes, found a thread in his jeans to pick at. “An’ when I was older, I started learnin’ chords.”

The nightsong began to get louder, you thought, as Ryan finished his story. Male crickets were getting more desperate for mates; so were the frogs; nocturnal predators were getting anxious for their prey.

“I’d hopped a train, got past the point of anyone findin’ me and it was the dead of winter. I was makin’ a fire, or tryin’, but the wind was howlin’, I was throwin’ things in the tin I was usin’ to keep that fire goin’ an’ I grabbed that along with a bunch’a stuff that didn’t matter. That’s the rest of the story.”

Finally, Ryan abandoned that loose thread from his denim jeans. Head still ducked, he lifted his gaze to meet yours. You offered him a shadow of a smile, searching his warm brown eyes.

Then, you took his hand, and with both of yours, turned it around. You surveyed his palm calloused from hopping trains, fingertips rough from guitar strings. You traced the lines of his palm— first the head line, located in the center, then his life line, and finally his heart line. Glancing up at him, your eyes landed on his lips, the small and almost undetectable smile of wonder crooking the corners of his mouth upward. His smile was contagious.

Turning his palm over to look at the back of his hand, you redirected your attention to his long fingers— tattooed horizontal lines just below his top knuckles, vertical ones inked between the bottom two. You brushed the pad of your thumb over the length of his index finger before lifting his hand to your lips and gently peppering tiny kisses over each of his fingertips.

In response, he gently took his hand back to use his index finger in lifting your chin. Everything I’ll ever need, he thought to himself in absolute certainty. She’s everything. Ryan drank in the color of your eyes, the slight slope of your nose, the shape and curve of your mouth. His eyes lingered there for a moment, and he used his finger to lift your chin higher.

Without hesitation, his mouth was on yours, passion and tenderness combined in the way your lips met. Ryan coaxed your mouth open with his tongue and a small, satisfied noise tumbled from your mouth into his, your heart rate skyrocketing. When he pulled back to catch his breath, he kissed the tip of your nose and then your temple, feeling the slight, rhythmic beating of your heart against his lips.

“We should go inside,” he suggested with a slight nod to the door. Tongue darting out to wet his lips, he gave your shoulders one last squeeze before sliding his arm from around your shoulders. “I have a craving, Y/N.” Your eyes widened in anticipation as Ryan paused, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “For a root beer float.”

Laughter spilled from your mouth, Ryan following suit with chuckling of his own. “Ryan Brenner.” You attempted saying his name in a firm tone, but failed. “You’ll get that root beer float, but not without payment first. You owe me a song for being such a damn good guesser, if I remember correctly.” It was your turn to smirk back at him, raising your eyebrows in faux haughtiness.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied readily, nodding as he did so. “Guitar’s inside.”

You stood from the swing and held out your hand. Ryan stood too, black notebook holding a memory in one hand, and in sliding his fingers between yours, love held in the other. The two of you made the few steps to the door as you sang lines of the song he’d be trading for ice cream.

“The Mississippi River, you know it’s deep and wide. I can stand right here, see my babe from the other side.”

Your voice didn’t transport you to the riverbank in the way his did, but you knew Ryan would guide you in your journey through space and time just as soon as he held his guitar in his lap and slid on his fingerpick. As always, you were ready, imagining the flickering of fireflies reflecting off the river, anticipating the antiseptic taste of unlawful moonshine, and waiting for the magic to begin.

#dani's 150 followers event #drabble requests #image 11 #ryan brenner x reader #did you hear that?#RYAN BRENNER

25 notes · View notes