When you are convinced that all the exits are blocked, either you take to believing in miracles or you stand still like the hummingbird. The miracle is that the honey is always there, right under your nose, only you were too busy searching elsewhere to realize it. The worst is not death but being blind, blind to the fact that everything about life is in the nature of the miraculous.
Jamie, a spunk 25 year old lead singer to the ~sensational band~ The Junkers, and Mako, a usually reserved man that landed a job protecting this kid, to his displeasure
Jamie’s reckless, does impulse shit whenever he wants and to whatever degree because he’s famous off his ass so he can get away with everything, right? pissing on stage and fucking fans is the norm. he’s gross, loud, rude, obnoxious, totally never going to change and would probably die sooner of alcohol poisoning and overdose than a die by mob of fans, and Mako hates it.
He hates having to be around the guy that intensifies his migraine and made pinching the bridge of his nose a habit. The worst part is, he’s really the only one that can handle Jamie’s shit. all of the other bodyguards prior to him resigned or got fired, or some odd mix between the two. Mako took this as a challenge to see how long he could last being the dude’s bodyguard, no matter how absurd or ridiculous the situations get he keeps being jamies bodyguard
Everything works out like that for a long time (few months) until Jamie’s arm gets blown off in a pyrotechnics incident and his careers entirely halted. Mako visits him, or is required to keep watch over him, but its more out of his own concern than anything. Sure the guy’s fucking annoying and entitled and an asswipe a lot, but he could also be nice, passionate about his job, happy to please people and share his views of the world through song. Daresay Jamie’s grown on Mako.
Jamie opens up a lot more to Mako in his time stuck in the hospital and he no longer sees his bodyguard as some old grouch that frowns at everything he does but an actual person who was pretty nice to talk to.
A lot changes afterwards, Mako and Jamie get closer in friendship and eventually romantically, whereas the rockstar comes back to the music scene fullforce with a fucking rad mechanical arm (mostly Mako’s suggestion) and everything ends GOOD
Her nose. Okay, it’s not like mine (I’m of Italian descent) but it is different from Anna and Let It Go and Lettuce and Mierda because all their noses are these tiny things and they start right above the mouth. Their tiny nostrils and nonexistent nose bridges are one of the worst things about them, in my opinion. I know literally two people with a nose like that. Two!!! The rest of my friends are Greek and Indian and black and Latinx and Native American and Chinese and Indonesian and all that shit and none of our noses are like that. But Moana’s nose is nice and wide and it looks more believable than the other buttons on those fuckers.
Another sneeze pushes out of you as you roll a tissue over your nose. You groan as you roll over in bed, this is the worst feeling in the world.
Another shiver runs down your spine as the pounding in your head intensifies. It’s only a cold, but tears run down your eyes as the itching intensifies. It’s not your fault, the allergies in town have been crazy lately, and the usual city smog doesn’t seem to help.
You hear a clang, and roll over lazily. Your eyes widening when they take him in.
He’s wearing his usual clothes overall. The same black shirt and worn out jeans. It’s only over them is a white apron with bright pink and green flowers scattered all over. He’s wearing your apron, you note silently. Eyes jumping to the mitt covered hands, and the steaming hot bowl of soup in his hands.
“Here.” He says, pushing the container full of soup to you. You sit up, and take it with ginger hands. A bowl filled with clear red liquid is placed in your lap, the steam rising tickling your face. He leaves for a second and returns with a plate full of grilled cheese sandwiches and a tall glass of ginger ale.
He sits by your side, watching as you lift the spoon with a trembling hand. More soup spills out of the spoon then back into the bowl. You feel the bed shift as his still apron clad body moves closer to you.
“Here let me.” He leans over, pulling the spoon away from your hand and into his own. He lifts the spoon up to your smiling lips, before you part them and engulf the soup.
It’s the first time he’s seen you smile all day.
“You’re so cute.” He murmurs, only to receive a raised eyebrow in return.
“I’m the cute one?” You’re voice is horse as red rimmed eyes stare into his blue ones. “You’re the one making me food in a cute little floral apron like some adorable house husband.” You murmur, earning a grin from him.
‘Nossir! I practice nat'ral medicine!’ said Groat proudly. 'Don’t believe in doctors, sir! Never a day’s illness in my life, sir!' He thumped his chest, making a thlap noise not normally associated with living tissue. 'Flannelette, goose grease, and hot bread puddin’, sir! Nothing like it for protecting your tubes against the noxious effluviences! I puts a fresh layer on ever week, sir, and you won’t find a sneeze passing my nose, sir. Very healthful, very natural!’
'Er…good,’ said Moist.
'Worst of 'em all is soap, sir,’ said Groat, lowering his voice. 'Terrible stuff, sir, washes away the beneficent humors. Leave things be, I say! Keep the tubes running, put sulfur in your socks, and pay attention to your chest protector, and you can laugh at anything! Now, sir, I’m sure a young man like yourself will be worrying about the state of his–’
'What’s this do?’ said Moist hurriedly, picking up a pot of greenish goo.
'That, sir? Wart cure. Wonderful stuff. Very natural, not like the stuff a doctor’d give you.’
Moist sniffed at the pot. “What’s it made of?’
'Arsenic, sir,’ said Groat calmly.
'Very natural, sir,’ said Groat. 'And green.’
Terry Pratchett, “Going Postal” (I’m gonna cry, this is like that post going around about that ‘healthy organic snack food’ company that was selling apricot pits which in fact can cause cyanide poisoning.)
Harvey wrapped his arms around him “I love you.” “I love you too.” Ellis smiled and closed his eyes “I can’t believe we’re finally going to be together.” “Well believe it.” Harvey smiled “So let’s try and get everything unpacked tomorrow and I’ll start looking for a new job in the city the day after tomorrow alright?” Harvey said. “There’s no rush babe, take your time.” “I want to though! I don’t wanna be sitting on my ass while you go out and make us money. I want to do this together.” Harvey smiled “I’m in this for the long haul.” Ellis chuckled lightly, his eyes still closed. “Stop feeling guilty Eli, you don’t have to feel guilty for going after what you want.” Harvey kissed his nose gently. “You do if you did it in the worst possible way.” Ellis sighed “It’ll pass eventually, I just have to feel guilty for feeling so damn happy right now.” he opened his eyes. Harvey smiled at him “I’m gonna go ask Darcy if she wants to come with us to the store to buy paint okay?” Harvey said. “I can’t believe you guys used to go to the same school. That’s crazy.” “Life works in mysterious ways.” he chuckled.
Stopping the smile appearing on my face is impossible when I enter my apartment. Tonight was movie night with Chanyeol and it’s been such a long time since last time, where Chanyeol chose to watch a horror film which I hate. Ever since we began dating, we’ve had at least one movie night a month. It’s now become an official tradition for us. Tonight is even more special because Chanyeol has just come home from tour after months of being away.
Loud beeping noises that seem to be coming from the kitchen steal my attention. Oh lord. I’m not even surprised. i can’t count on my hands how many times Chanyeol has set off the smoke alarm. When it’s Chanyeol’s turn to make the popcorn and snacks…it never ends well. Never.
Leaving my bag by the front door, I cautiously walk towards the commotion. Honestly, I’m a little scared of what I’ll find. An awful stench fills my nose. Ugh. The smell of burned popcorn is officially the worst. Pinching the tip of my nose, I enter the kitchen to see Chanyeol running circles in the tiny space. I can spot four whole bowls of burnt popcorn right off the bat. Different types of food and random items are littered over the kitchen counter. I mean…it’s not the worst mess he’s ever made.
The worst time was when I had come home to a fire truck outside our apartment building. Being in complete shock, I would have never thought the fire’s fault was Chanyeol. Apparently, the fire was his fault, according to the entire apartment complex. Somehow, he managed to catch a microwave on fire and when the other residents smelled the smoke, they had pulled the fire alarms causing a complete fury.
“Chanyeol, what happened in here?” I ask, waiting for the dumb excuse I’m about to hear. Chanyeol’s head snaps in my direction, the panic in his eyes fading as he tries to look relaxed. Awkwardly leaning his elbow against the counter, he hides the ultimate mess he’s made behind his incredibly tall body. “Whatever do you mean?”
Pointing towards the obvious massacre behind him, I bump him out of my line of sight. The mess he’s made is giving me a headache on it’s own. He was just suppose to make popcorn! Why does he need half of our food to make simple popcorn.
“Why did you pull this out to make popcorn?” I ask, holding up a half eaten candy bar. Shrugging his shoulders, Chanyeol snatches it from my hand. “I got a little hungry in the process.”
Shoving the rest of the candy bar in his mouth, he takes me into his arms, picking me up in the process. Here comes the part where he tries to act cute so I’ll forgive him which I always tend to do. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I whisper in his ear. “You know you’re going to have to clean all this up, right? No matter how cute you act.”
Chanyeol’s hug turns more extreme, his arms tightening around my waist, taking my breath away. “But Jagi! Don’t make me do it by myself.” He whines. Placing my hands on his chest, I gently pull back to see his pouty expression. “You made the mess yourself, didn’t you?” I state, my hand landing on my hip.
It’s hard to look demanding when you’re my size. How am I supposed to intimidate my messy boyfriend when I’m literally about half his size? A handsome smirk spreads on Chanyeol’s lips. “You’re extremely adorable.” Grabbing onto my face, he pinches my cheeks lightly. I have to hold myself back from slapping him upside the head.
Stomping my foot, I gesture to the mess mustering up my best glare. “Wow. I didn’t think you could get more adorable, but here you are.” Chanyeol reaches for his phone on the counter, quickly snapping a picture of me.
This boy! Running up to him, I grapple for his phone. Lifting his arm, he dangles the phone over my head. I couldn’t reach it even if I jumped.
Cupping my face cutely, I bat my eyelashes. “Oppaaaa! Please give me the phone!”
Chanyeol’s mouth falls open and his phone falls from his fingertips. Reacting quickly, I catch the phone in my palms. Typing his password in, I quickly go to his photos, deleting the awful picture of me.
“There.” I sigh, holding his phone out to him.
Chanyeol doesn’t reach for it which concerns me. His jaw is still unhinged and his eyes are full of shock. “What?” I ask, shaking the phone in front of him. Still not taking it, a blush creeps across Chanyeol’s cheeks. “Did you call me Oppa?”
Thinking back of my exact words, I realize I did. My whole face heats up because I had no intention of that coming out of my mouth. Playfully shoving against my shoulder, Chanyeol smiles. “If you want to stop being so adorable, calling me Oppa isn’t going to help in that case.” Pressing a kiss on my forehead, he turns his back on me, finally cleaning up his mess.