The High☆Speed Free! Starting Days event was held at the Ryogoku Kokukigan Sumo Wrestling arena, the exact same location where the Free! Eternal Summer event two years ago was held. The biggest announcements of the event were the three planned Free! continuation movies:
1) Free! Timeless Medley ~絆 Bonds~ This will be a compilation of scenes from Free! Eternal Summer as well as new scenes relating to Makoto, Haruka, Rei, and Nagisa
2) Free! Timeless Medley ~約束 Promises~ This will be a compilation of scenes from Free! Eternal Summer as well as new scenes relating to Sousuke and Rin’s promise to him
3) Free! Take Your Marks This will be a completely new full-length feature film following Haruka after he graduates from High School
For those interested in what happened during the Afternoon event, here’s a detailed report, so enjoy~
Harold’s whole body turns to face John then; he could feel himself twitching with facial acrobatics of befuddlement and disbelief. “A bunch of indecipherable squiggly lines reminded you of me?” Harold says dubiously, trying and failing not to sound vaguely insulted by the very notion.
John’s own face is a mixture of amusement and smugness, and it’s equal parts endearing and annoying. “Who says it’s indecipherable?” John drawls all-too-innocently as he moves to stand beside him, hands loosely tucked in his pockets with a pose Harold knows all too well as feigned casualness.
Harold narrows his eyes. “It’s supposed to have meaning?”
John smirks. “You’re the genius, Finch. You tell me.”
Harold glares, but he knows it’s futile; John isn’t intimidated by him anymore, and merely gives him a mysterious smile.
Harold huffs and turns his attention back to the wall. They’re at John’s loft, unwinding after a successful case with their latest Number; they happened to be in the area anyway, and John invited him upstairs for some tea. He had tried not to show his surprise when he saw that not only has John stocked his kitchen with fresh (and rare) tea leaves for Sencha green, but has also purchased tea makers, infusers, and complete tea sets, with linen. John had brewed a fresh pot for him, and poured it into the most ridiculously delicate porcelain teacup Harold has ever seen, and handed it into him as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
Harold would’ve been tempted to tease, except John had offered it to him with such a doleful look, not unlike Bear when he’s hopefully looking up at Harold for praise — or treats. “I promise it’s not poison,” John had said encouragingly, tinged with just the slightest hint of nervousness. Relenting, Harold had graciously accepted the offered teacup, and surprisingly discovered that it was, in fact, the best Sencha green he had ever tasted.
John had brightened then, looking so pleased and proud, and Harold had been thankful that the tea was quite warm so he could blame the flush in his cheeks to the steam rising from the cup. Curiosity piqued, he was about to ask the reason for the tea, when something else suddenly caught his eye and demanded his full attention. Something utterly mind-boggling.
“They look like something a toddler would’ve drawn on the wall with a crayon,” Harold deadpans.
John is unperturbed. “Do they?”
Harold scowls. John’s smile widens.
It wasn’t, in fact, drawn with a crayon. When Harold had prepared this loft for John, he had deliberately left it sparse, wordlessly allowing John the freedom to decorate and make use of it as he wants to; it is, after, all, his. For the most part, John had left it as it was when Harold had first given it to him, seemingly finding comfort instead in the simple, efficient, minimalistic style of the military.
Except John seems to have a… unique (bordering on questionable) sense of aesthetics when it comes to interior decorating. Particularly with what he has chosen to decorate the largest wall with.
“I don’t understand, Mr. Reese,” Harold says, frustrated. “They’re squiggles.”
John grins. “Meaningful squiggles, Finch.”
They were deliberately placed too, because they weren’t drawn into the wall. It was made with nails and string, not unlike the board Finch had once used to keep track of the Irrelevants he failed to save (the board that had mysteriously disappeared, and though they never once spoke about it, he had a feeling John had disposed it without his knowledge when he caught Harold looking painfully at the board too often).
There were no pictures here though, just seemingly randomly placed nails with string threaded through them, forming several rows of horizontal lines that go up and down, like a roller coaster, except with no sense of direction or design or aesthetic whatsoever.
Harold stares at him, aghast. “They really mean something to you?”
John looks at him then, and his tone turns soft and serious. “They mean the world to me.”
Harold’s breath catches in his throat as he watches John’s gaze travel over the wall’s design of his making; the only personal touch in the seemingly impersonal living space. “Despite what you believe, Finch,” John murmurs, “you don’t know everything about me.”
Harold doesn’t know why, but hearing that… hurts.
He turns away from John then, knowing that his face is betraying an emotion he doesn’t want the other man to see. He lifts the teacup and sips a little too quickly, the tea scalding the back of his throat. He looks up at the lines of nails and thread, and his face hardens, resolute.
He may not know what it means. But he’s determined to find out.
He’s surrounded by a fortress of books, with multiple tabs open in the monitor in front of him, when John walks into the library the next morning. He senses the way John halts and hesitates before curiosity gets the better of him. “Research for our new Number, Finch?”
Harold stiffens. “No,” he says brusquely as he resumes his typing, pausing every now and then to refer to one of the open books on his desk and to write on the pad where he keeps his notes.
He ignores the prickling on the back of his neck as he senses John staring at him. He hears John step closer, and tries not to react when he feels John’s gaze sweeping over his desk, knowing what he’s seeing: stacks of books about ancient ciphers and codes in varying eras and parts of the world, the computer screen displaying the more modern ones. Out of the corner of his eye, Harold sees the way John raises his eyebrows as one of the open tabs show that Harold has hacked into the (supposedly) secret codes of the CIA.
“Finch,” John says slowly, “isn’t this getting a little… obsessive?”
Harold holds out for several more seconds before he can’t take it anymore. He lets the pen he’s holding fall to the table with a loud clatter. “Can’t you at least give me a clue as to what those lines mean?” he asks helplessly.
He swivels in his chair to look up at John, and stops short. Despite the obvious amusement in his features, John also looks strangely… fond. Harold swallows, unsure why he suddenly feels embarrassed. And so… exposed.
John lets his fingers run lightly over one of the book’s open pages, his gaze faraway and unseeing. “I don’t know what to tell you, Finch,” he says softly, “except that it’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
Harold crosses his arms over his chest. “That doesn’t really help at all.” He refuses to pout like a child. He comes very close to it.
John chuckles. “Do we have a new Number?” he asks, deftly changing the subject.
“No,” Harold says morosely. He heaves a deep sigh and makes a shooing gesture. “You can have the day off, Mr. Reese.”
John’s mouth quirks. “I’ll leave you to your research then, boss.”
Harold glares at him; the man even has the gall to wink at him.
Sniffing, he turns back to his computer and his books. He hears John’s footsteps fading into the background, before he hears a pause as John bends down with a low whisper to Bear.
“Make sure he doesn’t wear himself out, okay?”
Surprised, Harold turns around to look at John, but he’s already gone.
The library feels strangely… empty.
Harold sits straight up, startled out of his stupor at Bear’s loud bark. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes and fumbles for his glasses, his movements lethargic as his limbs seem to take a bit longer to adjust to wakefulness. He squints at the dust motes visible from the sunlight streaming in from the windows, and he realises that it’s already late in the afternoon. He must have fallen asleep at his desk again.
Bear woofs again, and Harold pats his head apologetically. “I guess it’s time for your walk,” he says gently. He moves to stand—and gasps.
Pain shoots up from his spine with an electric jolt, digging into his shoulders and his injured leg like shards of glass. Belatedly, Harold realises that his prolonged nap not only made his overworked, overtired muscles stiff and aching—it also made him forget to take his scheduled painkillers.
He lowers himself slowly, hissing through gritted teeth, and through the haze of pain he can hear Bear whimpering. He lets his eyes flutter open as he senses Bear’s movements, and he sees the dog nosing at an amber bottle that Harold very clearly remembers wasn’t there before.
Bear pushes it toward him. Shakily, Harold reaches out to take it, and even the blinding pain isn’t enough to make him fail to recognise the prescription bottle.
Bear noses another object toward him, and Harold smiles at the dog gratefully as he takes the water bottle. He realises that it’s already pre-opened with the seal already broken, and he has a moment to be oddly touched before another stab of pain whites out all his thoughts. He quickly shakes out the pills and downs them with gulps of water, before he replaces the caps on both containers… and waits.
He doesn’t know how much time passes; it may have just been minutes, even though it feels like hours. Bear has settled himself by Harold’s feet with his chin on Harold’s lap, staunchly watching him the entire time. As soon as Harold finally feels like he can breathe without the phantom sensation of his spine grinding itself to pieces with every expansion and contraction of his lungs, he tenderly runs his fingers through the dog’s soft fur.
“Thank you, Bear,” he says as Bear thumps his tail minutely, almost hesitantly against the floor, as if still unsure of the state of his master’s well-being. “Although… am I correct in assuming that Mr. Reese is the one who dropped these earlier while I was sleeping?” He thumbs at the prescription bottle as it rattles in his hand.
Bear woofs, and Harold smiles, feeling a warmth blossom in his chest. “Then I suppose I have to thank him as well.”
He turns over the bottle thoughtfully. “Though I wonder how he knew the right brand and dosage,” he muses, “not to mention the time and frequency needed for me to—”
‘Can’t you at least give me a clue as to what those lines mean?’
He stares at the bottle. “Of course,” he murmurs to himself. “How very clever, Mr. Reese.”
Finally convinced that his master is out of immediate danger, Bear shuffles back to make room as Harold swivels his chair forward and powers up the monitor of his computer. Operating on a strong hunch, he opens his personal files and accesses his medical records.
And there, in front of him, is the answer.
‘They mean the world to me.’
‘It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.’
“Oh,” Harold breathes. “Oh John.”
Evening finds him standing in the middle of John’s loft, once more staring at the lines on the wall.
“You covered them with fluorescent paint,” Harold observes.
Several feet behind him, a good distance away, John steps out of the shadows. “Yes,” he quietly affirms. “I did.”
John’s military efficiency shows in his habits; the only lights he turns on at night are the ones in the bathroom and in the kitchen counter. In fact, the only illumination of the room is coming from New York City itself, as the lights filter in through the windows which John—despite being an intensely private person himself—refuses to cover with curtains.
Harold is beginning to suspect, however, that there’s another reason why John prefers his loft to be blanketed in shadow at night, aside from the practical reason of saving electricity.
Harold tilts his head toward the design on the wall. “They look like constellations,” he softly remarks. The fluorescent paint made the entire thing glow in the dark; the nails stand out like stars in the night sky, the thread connecting them reminiscent of the shapes that can be found in astrology books. “It’s beautiful.”
A small smile plays on John’s lips as he steps closer. “It is,” he agrees. “I needed the reminder.”
“Oh?” Harold looks at him. “Of what?”
John moves to stand beside Harold, the fabrics of their sleeves nearly brushing. “Of a light that never goes out, no matter how dark the world gets.”
Harold’s heart flutters at that. “I see,” he says, carefully neutral. “That’s… a very optimistic view to have, Mr. Reese.”
John looks up at the wall. “They give me hope,” he murmurs, indicating the glowing lines.
Harold takes a deep breath. John senses his wordless unease, and blinks when Harold hands him a file. He takes it, opens the folder—and Harold sees the exact moment it registers in John’s eyes that Harold finally knows.
“I wonder, Mr. Reese,” Harold begins softly, “why would you design your wall with the test results of my electroencephalogram?”
Harold steps closer as John peruses the medical records Harold knows John has already seen in detail before. Harold tries very hard not to think about how John may have acquired those records in the first place, and very possibly kept a copy for himself as reference; the design on John’s wall is a near-perfect replica of Harold’s EEG reading, the star-like lines a larger, glowing version of the measurement and recording of Harold’s brain activity.
“Specifically,” Harold continues, gentle in his probing, “it’s the reading the doctors gave me when they tested me after the bombing.”
John’s head snaps up at that, but Harold’s gaze is calm. The memory doesn’t give him pain anymore, only a lingering sense of loss that he’s continuously learning to live with; Nathan’s absence will always be Harold’s phantom limb, the burden of guilt a constant, sobering guide for his conscience.
Slowly, John closes the folder and hands it back to Harold. He takes it, and waits.
“It reminds me to be careful,” John finally says as he looks back at the wall. “To protect at all cost what the world can’t afford to lose.”
Harold holds his breath. “And what is that, Mr. Reese?”
John is quiet for a moment longer. He closes his eyes, and even as Harold watches, the most peaceful expression Harold has ever seen settles over John’s features.
“A beautiful mind that can save the world.”
Harold turns away. It’s almost too painful to look at John then.
‘A light that never goes out, no matter how dark the world gets.’
He blinks away the sudden mistiness that comes over his eyes. He removes his foggy glasses and takes out his pocket square to wipe them clean. When he puts them back on, John is looking at him, waiting.
They are teetering on the edge of a precipice, and John, as always, is following Harold’s lead on whether or not they both should leap.
“I suppose,” Harold manages to say amidst the rapid beating of his heart, “we should schedule for an electrocardiogram next.”
He turns to John, who at first has a look of confusion on his face, before it swiftly ratchets into tempered panic. “Finch, are you—”
“No, no, Mr. Reese, I’m perfectly fine,” Harold puts up both his hands to placate John. “I meant, we should schedule an ECG for you.”
John blinks, looking completely bewildered. “Me? But why?”
Harold smiles, and glances up at the wall. “Because your design is incomplete, John. It’s missing its other half.”
He hears a sharp intake of breath, and Harold turns to him. “We need the other half of the equation,” he softly explains. “After all, what is a beautiful mind that can save the world… without a beautiful heart that can change it?”
The city lights are reflected in John’s eyes as they shine with a riveting combination of fear and hope. Harold steps closer into his personal space—much closer than they have ever been before—and sees the way John’s eyes dilate as Harold looks up at him.
“I suppose it’s for my benefit too,” Harold admits, dipping his gaze shyly as he places a hand on John’s chest to steady himself. “After all, I, too, need a reminder of what I can’t afford to lose.”
They’re standing so close together that Harold can feel the vibrations of John’s rumbling voice reverberating between them. “And what is that?”
Harold smiles, tucks his head beneath John’s chin, and presses his ear to John’s chest, hearing the rhythm of the future he’s fighting for.
remember that anon who requested a patater engagement?
Kent’s sitting on their couch on a random
Friday night, blindfolded and laughing as Tater feeds him something round and
“Another grape,” he says once he’s finished
chewing. “Come on, give me a challenge.” They’ve been at this for half an
hour. Tater came home with the idea in his head that they try the Sensory
Challenge, whatever that was, something from Russian Youtube. It involved
people blindfolding each other and then making them feel, taste, smell, or hear
things and then guessing what the things were.
So far, Kent’s had to
guess the feel of the TV remote (”Easy.”), the sound of Tater shaking one of
their house plants (”Tater, if you hurt one leaf on Alejandro, I’m going to
murder you.”), and the smell of Tater’s socks from practice (”Alexei I am going to murder
After the socks, Tater started feeding him
various fruits and veggies out of their fridge, as well as spoonfuls of ice
cream, so Kent’s decided that Tater is forgiven. Tater told him earlier that he
could take the blindfold off, but Kent’s having too much fun. He was half
expecting this to devolve into something kinky. But Tater’s just playing the
game, having fun, and Kent’s having fun, too.
That’s the thing he loves about Tater: the guy
never lets him get bored. Tater’s always bringing something new into Kent’s life,
a joke or a book or a recipe, a new perspective on life that Kent’s never seen
Kent’s eaten this brand of Rocky Road a
million times, but with his vision gone and only his nose and mouth to inform
his experience, it’s like a whole new flavor.
“Mm, you should kiss me now,” Kent says,
smacking his lips.
Tater does. It’s a short peck; a soft, warm
contrast to the hard, cold feel of the ice cream-laden spoon from a moment
Oliver Wood needs a little extra help with potions. Or is it just an excuse to get close to a classmate?
A/N: Y/F= Your Friend, Y/N= Your Name
“He’s staring again,” Y/F whispered, smirking.
You rolled your eyes and glanced over your shoulder. A pair
of brown eyes locked with yours before darting down to a textbook. Yup. Oliver
Wood was looking at you.
“Doesn’t matter,” you said with a shrug as you turned back
around. “I probably have a food stain on my robes or something.”
“Excuses, excuses,” Y/F said in a sing-song voice, tapping
your book for emphasis. “He likes you, you like him. Go out with him already.
Put on a cute top, that lilac perfume you like, take your hair out of that damn
ponytail, and go on a date with him!”
“Like he’d ever ask,” you muttered as you tried to refocus
on your charms essay.
Y/F opened her mouth to retort, but Oliver Wood was walking
over to your table.
“Drop it,” you hissed, just before Oliver approached.
“Hi you guys,” Oliver said, smiling at you.
“Hey Oliver,” you answered. Out of the corner of your eye,
you saw Y/F’s eyes light up. Crap. You knew that mischievous, plotting look…
She scooted her chair back. “Would you look at the time?
I’ve got a hot date with a cup of hot chocolate.” She stood to leave. “Have
fun,” she whispered, giving your shoulder a squeeze as she sauntered off.
Oliver gestured to the chair next to yours. “May I?”
“Um, sure,” you said, trying to play it cool. You scooted
your chair over as Oliver sat down next to you.
Oliver leaned on his face on his hand, facing you. “Y/N, you’re
good at potions, right?” he asked, brows furrowed.
“I’m alright,” you answered.
“Would you, uh, maybe consider tutoring me sometime?” He
traced a circle on the desk with his index finger. “I’d really appreciate it.”
He smiled at you, that confident smile he always wore after a Quidditch win.
You couldn’t help but smile back. “Sure, Oliver. I-I could
do that. Just let me know when.”
He leaned forward earnestly.
“Does now work?”
“Alright so if you just add the rose thorns, and stir
counter-clockwise, you should have-”
“A very effective love potion,” Oliver finished for you,
You nodded. “Exactly. You’re actually much better at this
than you think.” Oliver didn’t answer- he was busy doodling on your notebook.
“I think your problem is you don’t pay attention,” you said with a laugh,
Oliver’s face turned red. “Sorry. I just get kind of…
distracted sometimes,” he admitted, chuckling. “Say, don’t they say that Amortentia
smells different to different people?”
You nodded. “Yeah.”
“And what does it smell like to you?” he pressed, curiosity
in his eyes.
“I’ve actually never smelled it,” you admitted. “Have you?”
He shook his head. “But they sell a cheap one at J.
Pippin’s Potions. Maybe on our next Hogsmeade trip we could go take a whiff.
See what we smell, so to speak.”
You bit your lip. “You… you wanna hang out on the Hogsmeade
Oliver rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh. Er, I was thinking
I could treat you to a drink at the Three Broomsticks. As like a thank you for
your help?” He didn’t quite meet your eyes as he asked.
“I’d like that,” you
assured him, smiling.
“Hurry up, Y/N!” Oliver called as he raced you through the
snow. You couldn’t help laughing as you jogged behind him, careful not to bump
into people on the busy Hogsmeade street.
“Excuse me, pardon me,” you panted as you finally caught up
He smiled down at you. “Finally,” he teased, nudging you.
The two of you reached J. Pippin’s. He held the door open for you. “After you.”
You attempted to brush the snow out of your hair as you
walked into the shop. Suddenly a hand was brushing your shoulders.
“There ya go,” Oliver said, grinning as he helped you brush
off. He nodded towards the back of the shop. “Shall we?”
The two of you bobbed and weaved around people until you
finally stood in front of the love potions. Oliver picked one up, opened it, and
handed it to you.
You took it and lifted it to your nose.
“That new book smell… my gran’s chocolate chip cookies…
and…” You frowned. “I actually don’t know what the last one is,” you admitted,
handing the potion to Oliver. When your fingers brushed against his, you nearly
dropped the bottle.
He smirked and brought the bottle to his nose. “The smell
of a Quidditch pitch, of course… pumpkin pie… and…” The color rose in his
You looked away, suppressing a grin. Lilac. Just like your
Oliver cleared his throat and capped the bottle, quickly
placing it on the shelf. “Well then. You kept up your end of the bargain. I
believe I owe you a butterbeer.” He held out his arm to you. “Ready?”
You took his arm, and the two of you hurried through the
shop, through the snow, and into the Three Broomsticks. On the way, you figured
out your third scent.
If I were a dolphin I would spend all my time on a shower curtain
If I were an octopus I would swim sideways to show off my figure to my girlfriend as the clownfish hummed My Favorite Things to the tune of a space heater with the elves getting in my way and my credit being pre-approved by bottle-nosed aliens, the public nuissances who dream chocolate creamsicles every time Catwoman gets drunk with Eric Theiss and remembers her electrolytes under the wafers of capitalism, the deafening sound of your final catalog, and the shoestring fries from the freezer in your shadow.
I relate to this one on a personal level, because everyone tells me I have a weird laugh, like one minute I’ll be laughing and the next I’ll be cackling like a madwoman then quacking like a duck and then hyperventilating… But it’s all worth it because I love laughing.
S.Coups/Seungcheol: He was surprised at first, but then he thought it was super cute and adorable, and would lovingly tease you for it. From then on he would brag to his members about how his girlfriend had the cutest laugh.
Jeonghan: He would be slightly weirded out, and give you a weird look, but he would realize that this is another little thing that makes you so special, so wonderful. He would just smile at you for the rest of the day, and if you asked why, he would simply answer: “Your laugh,”
Joshua/Jisoo: He would love your laugh and then think of weird ways to make you laugh some more, like the nose-bottle trick. No matter what, he would make you laugh and when he did, he loved it.
Jun/Junhui: He would be so weirded out at first, like what happened to the calm girlfriend he knew, but then he would subtly start doing things to make you laugh so he could hear it again. Even if that meant tripping DK a few times.
Hoshi/Soonyoung: Omg he would not stop making you laugh after that. Nonstop jokes, pranks, anything. He would even get DK in on it, all to hear that melodiously weird laugh, because he thought it was the best thing ever.
Wonwoo: Wonwoo would jump in surprise but he was laughing too at the time, so it made him laugh harder, until you were both melting puddles of laughter. After that, he would do small things to hear your laughter. Like subtle tickling, or his classic poker face through one of S.Coup’s briefings.
Woozi/Jihoon: When he first heard your diverse laughter it was when he played his latest demo, but his speakers were at full volume, so you both were shocked and when you heard Woozi’s scream you couldn’t help but laugh, and that’s when he heard it. It was like another wave of surprise, but he couldn’t help but laugh as well.
DK/Seokmin: He would be a lot like Hoshi and do anything to make you laugh because he thought it was so cute and random, just like you. He would tell you it was his favorite part about you.
Mingyu: He was the cause of your laughter the first time he heard it, so he was proud of himself to make you laugh that much and that genuinely, so he would always think of a way to make that genuine diverse laugh to come back, because the happiness radiating off of you was worth it.
The8/Minghao: Minghao doesn’t like messing up his Korean, especially in front of his girlfriend. But when he mistook ‘shampoo’ for ‘lipstick’, you just couldn’t hold yourself back from laughing. He was slightly embarrassed, but then you apologized and he knew you meant no harm. Plus, he got to hear your beautiful laugh.
Seungkwan: He would think it was so weird and yet it was so you, and it was perfect. He would be like Seungcheol and brag nonstop about your amazing laugh and make you laugh in front of them so he could show it off and say, “See! See! I told you it’s adorable!”
Vernon/Hansol: He would start laughing because he was so surprised your laugh changed so quickly and so drastically, but he would secretly find it the cutest thing ever.
Dino/Chan: He would be showing you a new dance he was practicing when he tripped and had the most epic wipeout ever. He was going to be really embarrassed when he heard your laughter. He looked up and grinned and told himself that he would maybe probably mess up a few more times to hear your laughter.
Warnings: None really. Sass, breast milk, talk of future sex
AN: This was written for @sis-tafics and @eyes-of-a-disney-princess birthday challenge. My prompt was the one with the breast milk. Hope you guys like it. I tried to make it fluffy and funny with a real life situation that I and many other mother’s have actually seen! Special thanks to @jalove-wecallhimdean for betaing for me as always!
You hadn’t really given much thought to having kids, but now that you had one you were head over heels in love with the tiny human being you had managed to create. You had given birth to a little girl just 17 days ago. She was going to be a heartbreaker as she got older with your (h/c) hair and button nose and her father’s pouty lips and hopefully his eyes.
“Hey sweetheart. How are my two favorite girls today?” You heard your husbands whiskey smooth voice in the nursery doorway and you turned with a smile on your face, gently rocking your daughter to soothe her whimpers.
“We’re good…been a little fussy today though. I think she’s got an upset tummy.” You explained in a soft voice, watching as your daughter finally began to settle into your arms. The look of pure devastation on Dean’s face almost made you laugh. He was so protective of his little girl and the thought of her in any kind of pain made his heart ache. “You’re home early.”
+ summary: Hiiiii can you do a haechan/donghyuck scenario that’s really fluffy and cute where he tries to take you on a date and everything goes wrong but you both still like each other and you end up just cuddling and watching movies and napping pls I know it’s so specific I’m sorry
+ honestly?? this was super fun to write like she was really worried that she was too specific but its actually really helpful for more. i think i get more joy out of specific requests than vague ones. I kind of wish he was a bit more of his sassy self in this but they are on their first date soo…
A beady eyed, rat like boy sat before you, his hand clenched around his fork while his harsh tones spat out words you barely recognized. You squinted your eyes at him, trying to read his lips but as more time passed on the more you wanted to drown him out. Your own spoon flipped the soup over and over in annoyance, not wanting to eat. He finished his food off with a lick of his fingers and asked something unintelligible before taking your soup and slurping it down.
The waiter from before did not come to your table, rather a taller, younger boy who didn’t look the age of hiring staff and rather your age grinned happily down at the two of you.
“More water ma’am?” he asked sweetly, pouring the water into your glass when you nodded awkwardly.
The boy before you grunted what sounded like ‘what about me?’ and the waiter turned to him, his sweet demeanor changing tenfold before smiling a cruel smile.
“Sure thing, sir. I thought you could cool down a bit,” he stated with a smirk, the water trickling down his mop of dark hair and all over his expensive clothes.
Your blind date set up by your mother stood, slamming his hands on the table in shock, shouting words loudly as management rushed in.
“Listen, doll face. I can take you on a real date this punk could never even imagine,” the boy stated, a smirk on his face as he held out his hand. You looked at the rat drowning in the water before taking the waiter’s hand and running out of the restaurant.
Standing on a street corner, the wind picking up as the street lights warmly glowed around you. The two of you started laughing, breathing heavily as you held your knees tightly between trembling fingers.
“I hope you didn’t just ruin your job” you whispered through deep breaths.
The boy stood up straight, a large smile on his face, “I don’t work there, I just wanted to save you from that prick,” he replied, a lopsided grin on his face.
You laughed at the thought, he had gone to all of that trouble. “Well thank you…?” You rose an eyebrow in question, awaiting his name.
“Donghyuck,” he stated, bowing, a hand in front of him and one behind his back.
“It’s a pleasure, _____. Now, why don’t I take you on the date you deserve?” Donghyuk asked, holding his hand back out to you.
“Lets,” you agreed, clapping your hands together, swinging them as the two of you merged into the crowd.
You two emerged in front of a cafe, a bit busy and hectic for your taste but exciting nonetheless. The two of you entered, the brown walls making the place feel homey as well as the fireplace creating a warmth a heater couldn’t provide.
Donghyuk pointed to a table on the upper floor, like a large catwalk around the top where the middle was cut out and room for tables and walking were allowed. You nodded, giving him your order and moving up the curving stairs to reach the top.
The table sat next to a large window, overlooking the city. You admired the sparkling lights and sea of people until Donghyuk arrived at the table. He set his drink down and went to set yours down until he tripped over his shoe lace and spilt the liquid all over your nice dress.
He stood there, shock written all over his face. The two of you sat there before you rushed down the stairs and to the bathroom.
Donghyuk felt the guilt swarm inside him, he couldn’t see your face but he knew that it was filled with tears. The woman at the cashier saw the whole thing happen and nodded at him, a silent sign saying she’d bring another up. He sighed in relief but doubted you’d want to stay there or with him for another second.
You returned to the table, a placid look on your face and he rose an eyebrow in surprise.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, unsure how to address the situation.
“Yeah, why?” you asked, patting a few spots on your dress still.
“Well, you left so quickly, I wasn’t sure…” he whispered, his cocky demeanor all but nothing now. A waiter walked up to their table, his eyes set on you, a look Donghyuck did not appreciate. He handed you the cup, making sure to brush your fingers together, smiling with all his teeth before leaving.
“Gross,” Donghyuck groaned, taking the slip of white paper from the plate and tossing it over the railing. “You won’t be needing that with me here.”
You smiled softly, touching his hand, a feeling of electricity moving between your hands. You pulled back, hissing.
“Oh, sorry!” you exclaimed, the static shocking the both of you.
“It’s fine,” he whispered, scratching the back of his neck.
The two of you talked for a few minutes, nothing potentially disastrous happening. Donghyuk happened to look down at the ground floor for a moment when the door opened, two girls entering and looking up as well. They both turned red in the face before squealing loudly at the sight of him.
“Oh my God!” one of them screamed, as the other dashed for the stairs.
“Can I get a picture with you?” the other girl asked, somehow up the stairs in milliseconds. Donghyuk looked behind him and back to her, trying to smile up at her without looking at you.
“I’m actually on a date at the moment,” he said awkwardly.
The girl didn’t move, still smiling brightly at him until her friend came to her. “Oh, please? We won’t bother you anymore. I promise,” the girl stated, a fake smile pulling at her face.
Donghyuk sighed, standing to his feet, “Alright,” he muttered. “Uh, _____? Would you mind?” he asked shyly, you nodded in understanding and took a picture of the three of them. The girls then decided they also wanted individual pictures, consuming more of their time before thanking him profusely and then finally leaving.
“Some fans don’t understand we have a life beyond them,” he sighed, turning to you with an apologetic look.
“And who is ‘we’?” you asked curiously.
“Oh, um… I’m in a new boy group under SM Entertainment. We’re called NCT, though there are subunits and I’m in the ones called NCT 127 and NCT DREAM,” he explained.
You nodded in understanding, taking a sip of your drink. A bump in the table made you pour the rest of the contents on your lap once more, one of the girls from before looking down at the two of you guys with a no so convincing apologetic look.
“Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry. Why don’t we go on to the bathroom and get you cleaned up?” she asked, taking your wrist in her hand and dragging you off to the girls bathroom.
When the two of you entered the bathroom, the strongest scent of cleaning solution and bottled perfume hit your nose and you began to cough.
The girl dragging you in threw down your wrist in disgust, the liquid on your thighs burned severely so you moved to clean off your legs once more but was cornered by the two.
“So…” the dark haired girl who had been hiding in the bathroom asked, her eyes slowly trailing up your figure, assessing with her sharp eyes. “Your Haechan’s date?”
“No, I’m Donghyuk’s date,” you replied in annoyance, glaring at her.
She snarled in your face, “It’s Haechan, only a true fan would know that, but I guess all you’re trying to do is get in his pants because he’s famous.”
“Yeah, it’s obvious, the way you look like you’re sweet but in actuality you’re really a bitch,” the blonde stated, following her friend.
“Mmm, actually I have a little secret,” you whispered, curling your finger to bring them into you so they could hear you. “I didn’t even know he was famous until you two came screaming for him.”
The two gasped as if it was a crime to not know him, taking a step back. “Thank goodness, move out of my way. I can feel my skin blistering,” you replied, trying to shove past them only to get pushed back against the wall.
“No way, two-face, we’re not done here,” the blonde stated.
“And what are we not done with?” a strong voice asked, a short woman standing in the doorway of the bathroom, a terrifying look on her face as she stared down the two girls.
“We were just…”
“You two better get the fuck out of my cafe or swear to God your face on the corkboard won’t be the only place it is,” she growled, her eyes narrowing into slits until the girls scurried out of the bathroom with their tails between their legs.
The owner loosened up, a motherly figure overturning her as she walked over to you with a small, awkward smile. “Hey kid, I’m Mat you okay?” she asked, holding her hand out.
You took the woman’s hand that pulled her up, “Actually, could you check my thighs?” you whispered timidly.
“Sure,” she agreed, motioning for the counter to take a look. Your thighs were bright pink and small blisters were starting to pucker. She hissed at the sight, taking out a first aid kit from the bottom cabinet and cleaning the wounds.
“Your boyfriend is worried sick out there. He tried coming in here to get you but one of our staff thought he was trying to be a pervert and come in here. So, I had to come get you, lucky I did or those girls would have really gotten the ass kickin’ of their lives,” Mat said as she bandaged up your skin.
“Thank you, you’re very kind.”
She nodded, whispering under her breath, curses you didn’t understand.
“What are you saying?” you asked, making Mat look up.
“Oh, I’m from America, moved here when I wanted to find a new way in life,” she replied, a small smile on her lips. “Well, you’re all cleaned up, let’s get you onto your boyfriend,” Mat said, helping you down from the countertop.
“Could you… not say anything about the injuries. I want to try and make the rest of this date go as smoothly as possible,” you asked, a sheepish grin on your face as you hoped she’d agree.
She narrowed your eyes and you worried she was going to kick your ass too, “As long as you tell him sooner rather than when you’re in the hospital with an infection.”
You walked out of the bathroom to see Donghyuk pacing outside, his hands pushing through his hair as he perked up to see you. “You’re alright! I’m so sorry about that!” he scrambled.
“It’s alright, thank you Mat,” you dismissed, she nodded about to walk off before remembering.
“Oh! I wanted to say that the two of you have coffee, tea, whatever for life here because of what’s happened. I truly apologize on the behavior of those girls,” she bowed and left for the register before they could argue.
“Anyways,” Donghyuk muttered, “Would you like to go to the movies? It’s dark enough no one will recognize me plus it’s always a good first date area.”
“Alright,” you agreed.
Somehow, Donghyuk talked you into seeing this scary movie with him because “I’ll protect you from the monsters,” and whatever else he babbled on about in the ten minute line.
The two of you sat in the furthest row, with a popcorn bag between you and hands intertwined while the movie began to roll. The commercials were always the best part, especially if it got the idea of the scary movie coming your way out of your mind.
The scenes passed, your hand trembled and you jumped every moment something potentially harmful moved. You turned to take some of the popcorn from the middle, Donghyuk as well, waiting for you to grab your share and both from the movie when the middle aged woman beside you two screamed so shrilly that you jumped, your nose ramming into his own.
“Oh God!” he groaned, holding his nose in pain, while you as well did the same.
You removed your hands, looking at the slight redness on them. “Damn, you’re bleeding!” he exclaimed, removing his hands from his nose to check out yours.
“So are you!” you exclaimed, pointing at the blood pooling above his lips.
A few of the obnoxious kids in the theater shushed the two of you while you rushed out. In his jacket pocket he had a thing of tissues, handing a few out to you.
“How do I do this?” he asked, starting to tilt his head back.
“Go forwards, go forwards,” you exclaimed, pulling him forwards as if he were bowing while you did the same. After five minutes the two of you pulled up and just stuffed a few tissues in your nose to stop the rest of the bleeding.
Walking outside, Donghyuk grit his teeth annoyed he had made the date so insufferable from the moment he butted in.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered to her, barely able to look at her.
“It’s okay, I’ve made some silly mistakes myself tonight, don’t worry yourself. How about, we go back to my place, I’ll get some medicine and then we can curl up on the couch and watch netflix?”
“Um, yeah. I actually got blisters from the heat.”
“Fuck!” Donghyuk yelled, turning away more as he stomped his foot. “This has gone so terrible, you should go on home alone.”
“Listen, it’ll go great because I’m the one planning it. You’re just bad at planning,” you replied, lips in a thin line as you shrugged.
“Thanks,” he droned, turning back to you with a look of annoyance.
“It’s true, watch!”
Your parents were out for the weekend and had already planned that you’d bring rat-boy by the house so they weren’t worried about having one in the house.
“I’ll go get blankets,” you told him, running to your room and changing out of the fancy dress and into some shorts and a shirt while grabbing the blankets.
When you entered the living room, tossing one to him and curling up on the couch, patting the side next to you on the loveseat. Donghyuk took the seat next to you, while you flipped through the movies on Netflix.
“Anything in particular?” you asked.
“Right,” you agreed, flipping to a movie and curling into his side. Donghyuk sat tense, unsure of what to do as the two of you stared at the screen, blankets apart. The movie passed and it was halfway through, he had finally gained the courage to wrap his arm around you, next was a cheesy pick up line and he’d be set.
No response. He bent his neck to see your face, peaceful and asleep. He smiled lightly, pulling you closer to his side until you both fell asleep together. The date may not have been the best but this moment… it was more than he could ever ask for.
So I had a villager who was legless, so I had a backstory that she was a deep sea diver for her village, who got her legs bitten off by a predator of their shores. When the elemental creatures sets came out, I had to get it’s parts to add to her. SO, she was a victim, was stuck on the village, unable to swim properly, until the elders came and helped her by building parts for her to use in the water. The parts made her resemble the animal that can defend against the predator that attacked her, ((Think sharks and bottle nose dolphins)) An now she defends the waters of her village against the predators that made her legless to begin with.
Quite a little story from a moc missing legs, huh?
1. His cat eyes. They’re absolutely adorable. Seriously so pure.
2. His face is literally the golden ratio?? Like his facial structure is actually perfect bless him.
3. Multilingual af. I love listening to him speak all languages.
4. He’s a gentleman. He’s absolutely pure. He’s 100% boyfriend material.
5. He’s also rlly funny? Like watching him screech or suck the air out of a water bottle with his nose or DRINK WATER. He’s hilarious and he makes me smile and laugh.
I understand he’s receiving death threats of some sorts. Instead of threatening those people, spread positivity. Please list off all the things you love about Hong Jisoo. He’s too good for this.