bottle nosed

High☆Speed Free! Starting Days Event Report

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~

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Does the word "shellfish" annoy you since shellfish aren't fish? Does it bother you when people call orcas "killer whales" when they're dolphins? Because it bothers me even though I only have a high school level understanding of Biology I wanted to know if it was just me...

Hmm I think I used to, but now not so much, and I’ll tell you why.

Common or colloquial names vary so much within and between localities and languages that we shouldn’t expect the same kind of stringency we hold to real scientific names and groupings. The point of a name is to convey information, and in certain contexts an informal and not necessarily biologically accurate common name is suitable to convey relevant information to a wide group of people within a certain locality. Bird common names are particularly bad, for example an american blackbird is not closely related to the eurasian blackbird at all, and in addition there are about 26 (not necessarily related) species called blackbirds found in the Americas. However, if you are sitting in your garden in the UK and you hear a blackbird, you don’t need to differentiate between that and the 26 American birds to know that what you are hearing is Turdus merula. Common names are perfectly acceptable in the right context. 

Now, shellfish is a handy and historically well established culinary term for basically any edible marine invertebrate. I don’t think it would be necessary to have to start saying bivalve chowder, linguine with marine invertebrates, or decapod tempura just for the sake of scientific accuracy. The term is specific to English too - in latin based languages such as French, Spanish, and Italian etc., the same group of animals are referred to under the umbrella term of “Fruits of the Sea”. We know they are not fruits, and I’m sure (or I at least hope) that most people know that “shellfish” are not actually fish, however, as the title of my favourite podcast goes, there’s No Such Thing As A Fish - this is because the group of animals that we would call fish, is a paraphyletic group - which in terms of biological semantics, doesn’t exist.

 Basically, a paraphyletic group is a group of organisms including the latest common ancestor, but not including all descendants. Below in yellow are the groups that we would typically refer to as “fish”, however this excludes amphibians, and other land vertebrates etc., which are nested in the fish family tree. In fact, humans are more closely related to ray finned fish (such as salmon etc.) than ray finned fish are to sharks, yet the term fish removes this information. 

The proper, monophyletic groupings (ancestor and all descendants), which retains such information are displayed below for contrast, but you don’t need to say that you are going Osteichthyes-ing when you are going on a fishing trip. 

We basically use the word fish to refer to non air-breathing marine vertebrates with that share general habitats and ecologies, which is a useful word to have. For example don’t need to have a different, scientifically accurate term for overfishing for each fishy group, that would weaken the meaning of terminology for the action of overfishing, and make conservation policy and public outreach more difficult. Overfishing as a word is easy to understand, and in this context, it gets the job done, whether you are a biologist, a policy maker, a fisherman, or an average joe. 

SO scientifically, even the word fish to begin with is problematic! But such semantics aren’t necessary for everyday life, and thus the word fish still has value. It’s widespread usage is simply historical leftover from when the word fish basically meant anything living in the sea (shellfish, starfish, jellyfish) -  even the word dolphin comes from the latin for fish with a womb, which leads me onto your next example…

And guess what, there’s no such thing as a dolphin - yes, it is yet again another paraphyletic group. The common term dolphin excludes porpoises and other small toothed whales which are nested within classical dolphin groups, i.e. the superfamily, Delphinoidea. 

But, like fish, dolphin is still a handy term to refer to a specific type of cetacean, so it’s not going to stop being used. 

The important thing to remember is that all dolphins are whales. There are two major sub orders within Cetacea, the Mysticeti, or baleen whales such as humpback, blue, grey, minke etc. - i.e what we would typically think of as whales. However, there are also the Odontoceti, the toothed whales, which includes sperm whales, beaked whales, river dolphins, oceanic dolphins, porpoises, beluga whales, and narwhals. If the term whale is understood not to include dolphins then it becomes a paraphyletic group. Even though an Orca is part of the oceanic Dolphin family Delphinidae (which also includes bottle nosed dolphins, common dolphins etc.), it is still technically a whale. ADDITIONALLY the name killer whale may be due to a mistranslation of their 18th century Spanish name, asesina-ballenas which literally translates as whale killer as indeed, Orcas will hunt baleen whales. 

Anyway the point is, at the end of the day, if the right information is conveyed by a common or informal name within the context of day to day life, scientific semantics are unnecessary. Lol, following that logic to the extreme would mean that the name seahorse is wrong. Of course it would be cool if people knew more about cetacean taxonomy, or took an interest in marine invertebrates, but I don’t think that enforcing correct nomenclature is central to doing that. Most of the time these terms are simply just the name for a thing, disassociated from any greater meaning - I would still use the words shellfish in a restaurant, or the word starfish or jellyfish etc. and I am currently studying marine invertebrates!

And hey, then next time those terms come up in conversation you could always use that opportunity to crack open a few fun facts about how orcas are part of the dolphin family, and that all dolphins are whales, or that the prawn and clam on your plate are not related to each other, or to that can of tuna in your cupboard.

Write Me Lovely part 7
*****

Jughead woke up to sunshine and cinnamon. His eyes fluttered open slowly as he stretched his overly long limbs, his feet tangling in the fabric softener scented sheets. It was such a vast difference from the dirty mattress pad and barred walls he was used too, even at home he had never had a real matress, he slept on a pull out couch covered by an old fleece blanket. He could stay like this forever, tucked into this bed replaying memories of last night over and over.

Betty had cooked dinner, the most delicious meal he had had in years, who knew something as simple as pasta could be that mouthwateringly delicious. Then they had fallen together on her couch, an old nineties movie playing on her television, they didn’t talk much, it was comfortable. He knew it was strange, hell it was past the point of strange it was downright bizarre. This beautiful woman, her heart completely golden, and a hardened criminal sleeping in her home, eating her food, staring into her eyes, memorizing her smile. It wasn’t normal, everything she was doing for him, what could he offer her? Trouble. That was all. The part in his brain that told him to run was loud but there was a new voice now, soft and warm as it whispered
“Stay”

A knock on the bedroom door shook him out of his thoughts, the same voice coming from outside of the room.

“I don’t mean to wake you, I heard shifting. if you’re awake you can open the door, if not I’ll just pretend I’m talking to hotdog.”

Jughead couldn’t keep the grin off of his face as he made his way to the door, opening it slowly to find Betty standing in front of him, ruffled white apron around her waist and her hair pulled into a messy bun.

“Good morning” she whispered, dimples peeking through her Cheeks.

Jughead leaned against the door frame, a sleepy smile on his face.

“Good morning” he whispered back.

Betty’s eyes quickly scanned the boy in front of her, taking in his black tshirt and tight fitting sweat pants that had once belonged to Kevin. By the flush of her cheeks Jughead knew she approved of his newfound muscles and well rested being.

“I have to head downstairs, it’s gonna be a busy day. I made cinnamon rolls, they’re in the kitchen. I use cocoa powder so not even a little bit for Hotdog.”

As if the white sheepdog knew he was being talked about he let out a whine that had both Betty and Jughead laughing.

“Sorry buddy, bosses orders.” Jughead brought his eyes back to Bettys. “You don’t have to do all of this, I can find a place, I know I can be a bit much.”

Before he even had a chance to finish his sentence , Betty’s arms were wrapped around his waist.“I like having you here. I want you to stay.”

Jughead felt his heart speed up, those words had been the focal point of his dreams last night, but that is what all of this was wasn’t it? A dream, the most amazing dream he’d ever had. One day he would wake up and it would all be over but for now? He was plenty happy to stay sleeping. Resting his chin on his angels forehead he inhaled the vanilla and honey, his hands squeezing her back.

“Okay.”

They stayed like that for a moment before Betty hesitantly pulled away

“Okay. So showers down the hall, I’ll see you later.” She stepped back and dropped a kiss to Hotdogs head before heading down the stairs and leaving Jughead alone.

Hot shower. Jesus Christ it was heaven, the perfectly organized array of scented soaps and shampoos were like something out of a store and once again Jughead found himself thinking of Betty’s vanilla scented hair, bringing the bottle up to his nose he surprised himself when the deep moan slipped from his lips. Truthfully it wasn’t his fault, yes Betty Cooper was definitely the best person the Former gang member had ever met but she was also the most beautiful and the way her hips moved and the slender curve of her neck did things to him, made him feel ways he hadn’t ever felt. Her lips were something he could picture perfectly when he closed his eyes, so pink and perfect, not to mention the way she bent down to pet hotdog or grab something from the oven, he couldn’t not look.

Sure there had been women, but he hadn’t felt anything for them, they were beautiful and they satisfied that itch but… they were no Betty Cooper. No one could come close.

Running a towel through his hair he sighed at the way his raven locks were growing far too long, he needed a haircut and maybe a shave.

He made his way down the stairs towards the bakery, grabbing a cinnamon roll on his way down. God that woman could bake. He chose to forgo his leather jacket this time, settling for his plain black jeans and a tattered white tshirt. He had to go shopping too. What a mess.

As soon as he reached the bakery he knew what Betty had been talking about when she spoke of how busy it had been lately, almost every table was taken and the line was nearly out the door.

Jughead spotted Betty behind the counter, frosting cupcakes faster than he thought humanly possible, her crew of workers were running frantically around the bakery.

Jughead walked cautiously towards the beautiful blonde baker, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned against the counter

“Come here often?”

Betty’s eyes snapped up, instantly crinkling along with her smile when she saw the freshly showered boy in front of her.

“Well yes I do. I own this place so yeah…”

“Ah yes. I love a woman in power.”

Betty barked out the loudest laugh, drawing the attention of multiple tables and bringing the largest smile to Jugheads face.

Smacking her hand over her mouth Betty giggled
“What are you doing?” She questioned

Jughead pulled a napkin from the dispenser and pulled a pen from his pocket.
“I’m flirting with you.” He stated so matter of factly, Betty dropped the piping bag she was holding.

“And why on earth are you doing that?”

Jughead shrugged his shoulders still writing on the napkin
“I’m trying to woo you, is it working?”

Betty slid a perfectly frosted vanilla cupcake across the counter
“ I don’t know, ask me at the end of the day.” She licked the spare frosting off of her finger making direct eye contact with Jughead, two could play at this game.

Swallowing thickly the dark haired boy slid the napkin across the table, Betty grabbed it with a raised brow.

“I think I’m gonna go explore your town, I should be back before you close up for the day.” He started walking backwards, a goofy grin still on his face as Betty clutched the napkin. He could feel the eyes of all the bakery patrons on him, he didn’t look like he belonged in this town, surely his motorcycle parked proudly out front wasn’t helping his case.

Betty called after him
“Rumor has it Reggie is in town, I happen to know he hangs out around a certain bestfriends boutique, you might wanna say hello to an old friend” she waved delicately and headed into the kitchen.

Jughead smiled at a little girl, the toddlers eyes lit up and she tugged on her mom’s jacket, Jughead vaguely heard her whisper

“Like Danny Zuko.”

Jugheads hands flew to his hair, it was definitely time for a haircut.

As soon as his butt hit the seat of his motorcycle he sighed, sooner rather than later he supposed, pulling out his old fashioned cell phone from his side satchel, with held breath he glanced down

31 missed calls all from serpents

4 missed calls from his father

1 new text message

“You didn’t think you could really leave gang life that easily did you? Can’t wait to find you. You know what you owe us.”

Jughead slammed his phone shut and revved his engine.

Yeah, seeing Reggie was definitely a good idea.

Trust

Originally posted by nctuhohahyes

Rated: Somewhere between fluff and angst, decide for yourselves.

Pairing: YutaxReader

Summary: Bodyguard Yuta and fulfilling duties.




“The security detail is unnecessary.” She said after patiently reading the file in her hand. And waiting for the appropriate opportunity.

“It’s just precaution. I can’t send you to an international conference without someone to protect you. Think about how preposterous that is.” He used his politician voice.

“Why are you sending me to an international conference at all? Just send some staff, that’s what they’ll think I am anyway right?” She tried to keep her voice as respectful as possible.

“It made the most sense.” His voice sounded like he didn’t want to discuss this anymore. She didn’t want to say that she suspected he was just keeping an eye on her.

By the time she got back to the room, her bags had already been packed and an incredibly luxurious outfit was displayed on the bed. She called for the maid in attendance, she didn’t need to ask to know what she wanted at this hour and soon her tea was brought to her. She sat by the marble fireplace and stared into the fire for too long till the maid interrupted. She said something in her words that she had come to understand as ‘someone is here’ and nodded to let them come in.

“Miss, I’ll be your chauffeur for this trip.” His voice was clipped and void of emotion but something else caught her eye.

“You speak English?” She turned to him a little surprised.

“And fourteen other languages Miss, I will also be your translator if you so wish.” She got up with a small smile playing at her lips.

“I know twenty languages, soldier. Are you a soldier?” She walked up to him.

“In official capacity I’m your security detail Miss.” His gaze never shifted away from whatever it was fixated on straight ahead.

“And in unofficial capacity?” She stood right in front of him.

“I’m afraid I cannot answer that.” His voice didn’t falter.

“Okay security detail, what do I call you by? What is your name?” There was an harshness on her voice that was projection in it’s most basic forms.

“Eggshell 549-” She cut him off.

“No your real name, I don’t care about your silly nicknames. I need to know the name of the man who holds my life is in hands. As I’m told.” She smiled.

“Nakamoto Miss, Nakamoto Yuta.” He said obediently.

“Nice to meet you Yuta, I hope we can have a pleasant weekend.” She dismissed him after that to get ready.

The first few hours after arrival were spent meeting dignitaries, smiling at cameras and everything in between. She looked back at herself standing over her clothes wondering why she needed to be dressed up for a flight. He stood behind her the whole time, it was unnerving, like someone breathing down your neck literally all the time. Like she didn’t already have the figurative version of that. But she was compliant and she was in public.

“Could you get the Prince and I a drink?” She turned to Yuta after reaching the point of needing a little space, quite literally. He seemed hesitant but he was instructed to follow orders.

“You’ll get used to it, eventually.” The prince’s statement made her turn to him looking lost, “Oh, the people always around you, the bodyguards. I can tell you’re new to this. Just don’t treat them like people, they’re glorified bulletproof vests. Those, though cheap, don’t look good in pictures.” His smug grin was the worst part of his statement. She smiled and excused herself.

After a few minutes of standing out in the balcony there was a knock behind her that made her turn and her features soften on sight.

“You found me, sorry if you had to look around for too long.” She said, turning back to stare at the large expanse of green nothingness.

“I was right by you Miss, I thought you needed space, but I also got one of the other guards to get you the drink.” He walked up and handed her a glass of Champagne. She sighed when she registered his words.

“You heard what he said.” It wasn’t a question, Yuta didn’t answer.

“Everyone here are terrible people who do horrible things. What they say doesn’t matter, all these people here are a hair away from dictatorships and Oligarchies. They aren’t exactly in line for being good people.” She turned to him with kind eyes and a convincing tone.

“I don’t take offense Miss, that is not my job.” His answer was so simple that a laugh bubbled up her throat as the bubbles of the Champagne slipped in, “Also it may not be my place, but not everyone here is horrible.” She turned to him before she could stop herself.

“Let’s go now, I need a cleanse before the Ball tonight if I’m to survive three more days of this circus.” She sighed and turned to make her way out, “Can you get me out of here without anymore small talk?” Her eyes held the desperate plea her trained voice didn’t allow.

“I am here to serve you Miss.” He said and spoke into some device on his wrist.


On the second day of the conference, she decided to wake up early and personally go thank her team, when she went to the floor her staff was assigned to, she saw a white board with her name on it from afar, upon approaching the people, they rubbed it off urgently before she could see.

“Can I help you Miss?” One of the guards asked dutifully, but she noticed the bead of sweat slide down his temple in a well air-conditioned room. She turned at the sound of the door opening to see Yuta walk in, his jaw clenching.

“I,” She hesitated, looking around at the seemingly nervous people in the room. “I came to thank you all for your incredible help.” She forced a smile, “I have asked that you all be given a generous breakfast spread. You can go down the hall for that.” They all thanked her and bowed away.

“What was happening here?” She asked Yuta once everyone else had left.

“Ma’am-” His voice was a little less robotic.

“Tell me.” She said, not turning to look at him, he still hesitated.

“That’s an Order Mr. Nakamoto.” Her voice was quiet but authority in it didn’t need to be addressed.

“They have a wager.” He closed his eyes and sighed.

“On what?” Her voice was still plain, lacking any feel.

“On what you are to the, to the President.” She didn’t turn but he noticed her back tense for a moment.

“Who am I to the President?” Her voice was cautious.

“They’re betting on what position you have to get,” He paused, feeling like he said too much.

“To get to represent him at this conference.” She completed his thought, “What are the wagers?” She asked

“Ma’am?” He said confused.

“What do they think I am? What are the different wagers they are betting on?”

“Extortion, his son’s lover, daughter, mistress, spy.” He bit the inside of his cheek

Did you also bet?” She didn’t sound angry, “It’s okay, I’m not mad, I’m just curious. I want to know what you bet on.” She still didn’t face him.

“I did not partake in this Miss.”

“I see.” He heard her take a deep sigh then turn with a smile.

“What is a human being without curiosity right?” She brushed down her dress, not waiting for an actual reply.

“You will join me for breakfast at the Ballroom? Or you can eat down the hall with your colleagues. Whatever you like.”

“I go where you go Miss.” He said with finality.


Yuta woke up to his phone ringing loudly, his current roommate groaned at the disturbance but turned over and went back into deep sleep once he answered.

“Is something wrong Miss?” Yuta was already putting on clothes.

“You will do anything I ask you to right?” She said after a moment’s hesitation. Yuta sat back down, confused but clear on protocol.

“If it is in my Jurisdiction Miss.” He said carefully.

“Can you get me a packet of barbecue chips and a bottle of vodka?”


In less than half an hour, the doorbell rang and she rushed to it.

“You’re like the pizza guy. I almost didn’t recognise you without a suit” She giggled, turning around to let him come in.

“Ma’am are you okay?” He asked, placing the bag in his hand on a table.

“I finished everything in the minibar. Oops?” She giggled again. She turned around like she had to recall something and turned back with realisation, walking towards the plastic bag Yuta had put down.

“Miss do you think it’s alright to be drinking more?” She laughed at his words.

“Of course it’s not alright. Nothing about my life is alright. So I will drink cheap vodka bought at a convenience store if I need to Mr. Nakamoto.” He seemed to hold back something he wanted to say after that.

“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.” She sighed, picking up the Bottle.

“Want a sip?” She pushed the bottle under his nose.

“I don’t drink on duty Miss.” He said.

“You aren’t on duty right now, this place is more secure than Hell, nothing is going to happen, so drink.” She pushed it up, after a bit more hesitating he took a tiny sip, his face contorting immediately after. She laughed again.

“Wuss.” She said and took a large gulp from the bottle.

“What did you bet on?” She spoke up after a long, oddly comfortable silence.

“I didn’t wager on your identity Miss

“Can I trust you Nakamoto Yuta?”

“It is my duty serve you Miss.” He recited, she just clicked her tongue.

“No Robocop, Can I trust you? Not with my life, not with my safety. Can I trust you?” For the first time he turned to look at her, really look.

“Yes.” He said simply.

“I’m his illegitimate child. Who he feels bad for because her Mother died, leaving her in his care.” She whispered and laughed, “I’m not a spy, I’m not manipulating his son, nothing half as interesting. I’m just his Bastard.” She sighed like it felt good to get off her chest.

“His son is off overseeing immigrant security and his daughter, his real daughter, is too busy going to clubs and being a liability, so here I am. I’m the only other person sworn by blood, if not duty, to be on his side.” For the first time he heard anger in her voice.

“I-I know.” He hesitated again. She turned to him looking confused, but his features softened at the tears on the brim of her eyes.

“When I was first recruited, my first mission was to bring you to your dad. I was one of the people he send to bring you to him.” This time she was the one who really looked at him, she squinted and came to close without realising. Suddenly her eyes relaxed and she pushed back with joy.

“I remember you!” His heart was suddenly thumping.

“You were the one who came to me before the funeral right? You gave me my mother’s pearls, said my mother left them with my father for me.” His heartbeat was suddenly far worse.

“The commanding officer handed me this because I was the new one.” He said with a smile she didn’t see.

“You told me the pain eventually fades into a memory. That it won’t hurt this much anymore.” He bit his lip at her recollection.

“How are you so red you only had a small sip.” She touched his cheek and it somehow got much worse.

“I think you’re catching something Yuta.” She put her hand on his forehead and he pushed back coughing.

“I’m fine Miss. I’ll go rest after you go to bed.” His best professional voice was back. She let out a small chuckle.

“I get the message. I’ll stop drinking now. Sorry today was just one long day.” She sighed again.

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me,” He turned to her, then immediately turned away, “Miss.” He added. She nodded and turned to walk as he followed behind her.

Once she sat down at the edge of the bed he handed her a glass of water and a painkiller.

“You’ll thank me tomorrow.” He said and she smiled and accepted.

“Good Night Miss.” He said as she slid into the bed.

“Good Night Yuta.” She sighed sleepily, he was yet again betrayed by his eagerly beating heart who enjoyed that sentence a lot for some odd reason.

When she woke up the next morning, she turned to the bed stand to find a large bottle of water and a plain white card on the table. She flipped open the card and smiled at the two simple words on the crisp white background.

‘Happy Birthday.’

I think it’s about time to continue my b-day party!

This fic is for @hattedhedgehog who requested Junkers enjoying bath time

(So, this one was absolutely inspired by the Yuzu & Cocoa shower cream I got as a b-day present. It’s made by Lush and it’s amazing.)

.

Penthouse suites were Junkrat’s favorite luxury of the outside world.

So get this. Some rich wanker buys out the top of a building and puts a fancy-ass house in it, and then doesn’t even live there. How easy was it to—with the help of some bombs and Roadie’s hook—to get on top of the building and break in. So easy. They didn’t even have bomb traps to keep anyone out, when even even Junker babies knew how to make that much protection for their hidey holes.

Junkrat wasn’t complaining, though. Not even a tiny bit. Made it easier to enjoy the rich people shit. This one was great. There were gold toilets that washed your ass for you, and a whole bar full of very explosive alcohols to pilfer, and enough pillows to build a huge fort out of to sleep in. Best of all—it had a tub the size of a swimming pool with all kinds of fancy nice-smelling stuff to go with it.

Keep reading

Amortentia

Oliver Wood x Reader (second person)

850 words

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, smiling.

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, nudging him.

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 trip?”

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 with Oliver.

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.

“Ladies first.”

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 cheeks. “Lilac.”

You looked away, suppressing a grin. Lilac. Just like your favorite perfume.

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.

It was Oliver Wood’s cologne.

300 words a day

i slacked off on these, but i wrote a whole fic in that time, so i feel like i deserve a pass. this is set in the same universe as ‘paradise by the dashboard light’ and was inspired by this gif. i hope you enjoy!

is it in your kiss, or just because you’re sweet?

~

“Lemme paint your nails,” Loki says out of nowhere.

“Huh?”

“Paint. Your. Nails,” he repeats, pulling a small red bottle out of a paper bag.

Thor hedges. “I dunno…”

Loki rolls his eyes. “I’ve got stuff to take it off. Don’t be chicken.”

“I’m not –” Oh, no. Don’t…not the pout. Dammit. “Okay.”

Loki opens the bottle. Thor’s nose wrinkles at the odor.

“What’s in that stuff?”

“I dunno. Hold your hands still.“

Thor doesn’t. Loki takes one of his shaking hands and leans over it, looking focused as he paints Thor’s fingernails bright red.Thor wishes he took better care of his hands. He spreads his fingers wide and looks at his nails.

It’s weird. But it’s kind of nice.

The kid pulls out a tube of lipstick next. It’s bright red, like the polish. “Wanna put it on me?”

“Um. Sure?”

Thor gently takes hold of Loki’s fine jaw and presses the red stick lightly his lips.

“It’s just lipstick,” Loki says. “Don’t be scared.”

“Gimme a break, will you?” Thor goes in for a second attempt and coats Loki’s lips. He pulls away as he finishes, and Loki presses his lips together.

“How’s it look?”

It looks…wow. Loki’s always been pretty, but…with his black hair and fair skin and red lips…

“You’re like Snow White,” Thor says before he can stop himself.

“Yeah?”

Thor tucks a wavy lock of hair behind the kid’s ear. “Yeah.”

Loki leans in closer and drapes his arms around Thor’s neck. “That means I get a kiss from the handsome prince now, right?” he asks, sweet as pie.

Thor can’t explain the warm feeling that blooms in his chest. He pushes it out of his mind as he tugs Loki close and kisses him hard on his pretty red mouth.

How to make a meth pipe?

Materials needed

Light bulb (with no white shit around it)water bottle cap thin nose pliers  piece of strawknife

Now to make the pipe

  1. use the knife to cut about ¼ off the back of the light bulb, were the metal is. (it may take some pressure, dont worry the bulb wont break)
  2. now there is the fillament that you have to remove. use the thin pliers to break off all the fillament and smooth out the sharp edges
  3. now that all the fillament is gone take the water bottle cap and use the knfe to put 2 holes the size of a straw
  4. put the straw into one of the holes
  5. screw the water bottle cap onto the metal part that was cut off
  6. put the tweak in and tweak away

remember that anon who requested a patater engagement?

yeah.

Kent’s sitting on their couch on a random Friday night, blindfolded and laughing as Tater feeds him something round and cold.

“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 you.”)

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 before.

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 before.

“Now my turn,” Tater says against Kent’s mouth.

Keep reading

Taste the Feeling (Blackthorn Family oneshot)

I was at Shoprite earlier today and I saw these Coke bottles by the self-checkout. I actually saw the one labeled Mark first, the one labeled Julian was on the other side which I noticed as I was checking out the groceries. I took the opportunity to put them side by side and snapped a pic before leaving. On the way home, I came up with this scenario below. 

This is set up to take place some time between the end of Lady Midnight and the beginning of Lord of Shadows, enjoy!

“Alright, let’s go.”

Julian tucked in the last of the groceries in the shopping cart, grabbing the receipt and change before turning to his older brother. When his family, Emma, and company demanded for some form of Italian cuisine for dinner, Mark approached him asking if he could accompany him in his trip. The Shadowhunter didn’t expect such a request so suddenly, let alone from Mark. Julian won’t deny that he has clearly been trying to avoid Mark as much as he can after he found out Mark was dating Emma of all people. Not even the feeling of a dagger being twisted in his chest can compare to what Julian felt when he heard those words.

But at that point, Julian was too exhausted mentally to argue with himself and reluctantly agreed to let Mark join him.

After ultimately deciding to make stuffed shells for his family when they arrived at the store, Julian swiftly went through the aisles to get what he needed. Needless to say, Mark found himself in slight awe when his younger brother grabbed a few boxes of the uncooked pasta.

“They’re shells but they’re edible?”

Julian humored Mark with his questions as they continued with their shopping until the very end as they finished purchasing at the self-check out station.

“Mark?”

The half faerie Shadowhunter in question had what appeared to be a Coca-Cola bottle in his hand as he tapped at the screen in front of him, fascination etched on his beautiful face. Mark scanned the bottle, the loud beep and announcement of the price causing him to flinch.

Sighing, Julian fished out two dollars from his wallet and handed it to Mark and proceeded to instruct him on how to finish the transaction. He didn’t bother to stop Mark when he went to place the soda in a plastic bag even though it wasn’t necessary.

Turning back to push the cart, Julian felt a tap on his shoulder. Mark smiled as he held out the plastic bag to his brother.

“You want me to open it for you?” He asked slowly.

“No, it’s yours.”

Julian didn’t really care for sodas but Mark’s enthusiastic offer made his curiosity get the best of him. Adjusting his hold on the bag, Julian reached in to grab the bottle. It seemed like a regular bottle of Coca-Cola except when he looked on the back of it, he found himself at a loss for words.

The small white text on the top of the label read Share an ICE COLD Coke with,below it with a larger text displaying his name. Julian.

Julian suddenly felt a odd warmth grow in his chest. Holding up the bottle he asked, “Where did you find this?”

Mark pointed past his shoulder. “I saw it in one of those cold glass boxes. When I saw it had your name on it, I assumed it was for you.” His expression fell. “Do you not like it?”

Hearing the clearing of a throat from the mundane customer behind them, Julian quickly put the cold soda bottle back in the bag. “No, I like it. Thank you, Mark.” Grabbing the handle of the shopping cart they hurried out of line and made their way towards the entrance of the grocery store.

“I’ll be right back,” said Julian leaving Mark alone with the cart. “Stay here.”

He was gone before Mark could question him but came back a few minutes later, the bag carrying the drink Mark got for him in his hand.

“Let’s go.”

They made their way to the car and loaded the bags into the trunk. Mark offered to take the shopping cart back to one of the many stalls scattered amongst the parking lot. Settling into the driver’s seat, Julian started the engine and took out the two bottles of Coke, discarding the plastic bag in the seat behind him. He placed the one with his name on it on his lap and held the other one in his hand. Mark came back and slid into the passenger’s seat. He reached for his seatbelt and clicked in it place before turning his attention to Julian who was offering the bottle to him.

“Here.”

Mark glanced at the soda in Julian’s lap then took it the one in his hand hesitantly. “You were not satisfied with just one?”

Julian shook his head. “That one’s yours.”

Mirroring Julian’s actions from earlier, Mark rotated the Coke bottle. Similar to the one he gave his brother, Mark stared at the words on the label: Share an ICE COLD Coke with Mark.

Julian saw a glint in Mark’s blue-gold eyes as he scanned over the bottle. Whether it was because Mark was seeing his name on a label or the fact that Julian had gotten it for him, Julian didn’t know. What he did know however is that whatever bitter feelings he had towards Mark after what has happened recently has vanished at this very moment.

Mark let out a breathy laugh. “Is there one for everybody?”

Julian shrugged taking his own bottle in his hand. He unscrewed the red cap, releasing the built up carbon with a loud hiss. “Maybe. Luckily I was able to find one with your name on it though.”

Hearing the hiss took Mark aback. “Is it supposed to do that?” He unscrewed the cap of his soda, creating the same hissing sound as the first. Bubbly foam sprouted at the top but not enough to overflow. Cautiously, Mark brought the lip of the bottle close to his nose as possible, giving it a whiff and nearly sneezing all over it. “What in the- ? What is this?”

Julian cracked a smile.”Coke is a type of soda, a popular beverage for mundanes. I don’t really care for them myself though.” He took a sip and winced. That’s one of the main reasons he doesn’t usually drink sodas; the popping taste in his mouth was overwhelming.

Mark noticed the change in Julian’s face and started second guessing himself. “And it’s safe to drink?”

“In a way, yes. You’re not supposed to have too much of it because  it’s not healthy for you but it doesn’t hurt to have it once in awhile.”

A few seconds past before Mark decided to give it a go. Julian didn’t have time to prepare himself as he watched his brother take one huge gulp of Coke. Mark’s face twisted in a mix of pain and surprise. He recoiled from the bottle, spitting out the contents in his mouth all over himself and the dashboard, a few drops splattering on the windshield.

Julian quickly grabbed the bottle from him and settling it down in the cup holder between them as Mark doubled over in a fit of violent coughing. He reached towards the soda drenched glove compartment, grabbing a handful of napkins and handing them all to Mark. Great, that’s gonna take some intense scrubbing to get the stickiness off. 

Mark pressed the napkins to his face, hacking into them as he tried to recover himself. “By the Angel!” He cried. “Julian, you told me it was safe to drink! What- what kind of monstrosity did they put in that?!”

Julian opened his mouth to respond but as soon as Mark looked at him with a flushed face, bloodshot eyes, and snot running down his nose, he let out the most obnoxious laugh he had ever heard himself make. Setting down his own Coke on the holder, Julian clutched at his stomach as he felt tears prickle in his eyes as Marked gaped at him. 

This is good. Julian thought as sat there laughing his heart out. Everything is good for now.

Seventeen Reaction to You Having a Diverse Laugh

make a request or check out the master list! [ gifs do NOT belong to me ]

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.

~Admin AR


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.

Originally posted by saysvteen

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,”

Originally posted by seungheol

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.

Originally posted by fyjihan

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.

Originally posted by howona

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.

Originally posted by mountean

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.

Originally posted by pangguk

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.

Originally posted by wonyeols

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.

Originally posted by ftwonwoo

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.

Originally posted by mountean

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.

Originally posted by camera-seventeen

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!”

Originally posted by seungkvvan

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.

Originally posted by sneezes

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.

Originally posted by mountean

one hundred ways to say “I love you.”

(two.)

“It reminded me of you.”

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—”  

He stills.

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.

“Your heart.”

anonymous asked:

Scenario where RFA + MC go out to see a new horror movie and u two are the only ones in the theater

Jumin

  • he didn’t really want to be there, but MC insisted on going to see the movie and he didn’t want to let her go alone
  • they went to the first showing on a Monday so of course nobody else is in there
  • Jumin doesn’t seem like the type to be scared by movies, but
  • oh boy
  • he jumped at every single unexpected sound
  • he actually ended up getting super into the movie
  • since there was nobody else there, he started yelling at the people on the screen
  • “You damn idiot why would you go in there?! OH COME ON, OF COURSE HE’S GOING TO FIND YOU IF YOU HIDE THERE!”
  • “……I told you he was going to find you…….”
  • the movie managed to get in his head and he low key started freaking out
  • he stopped yelling like an hour in and just silently kept his head turned on her shoulder
  • he’d peek back at the screen for like ten minutes at a time but he’d freak out and look away again
  • he screamed like three times
  • thank GOD nobody else was in the theater with them because people would either be pissed or laughing their asses off
  • like five minutes after it’s over, he’s totally cool again
  • they both actually manage to totally forget about the movie
  • until it’s time to go to bed
  • MC almost starts crying
  • it’s a loooooong night, but they eventually fall asleep with the lights on


Yoosung

  • this poor kid holy s h i t
  • “MC I told you I’m not good with scary movies”
  • “I didn’t force you to come. I told you you could stay home.”
  • they watched a murder documentary together once so she could only imagine what an actual horror movie might bring about
  • super stereotypical beginning - middle aged white woman with her family, they just moved into a new house, everything’s chill until it’s quite obvious that there’s a demon living with them
  • Yoosung was okay for maybe three minutes
  • suddenly he’s clinging to her arm and he will absolutely not let go
  • she literally couldn’t hear half the movie because he kept screaming.
  • when he wasn’t screaming, he was mumbling into her neck about how bad of an idea it was for him to have come with
  • she kept telling him to shut up because he was distracting others from the movie, even though she was well aware of the fact that they were alone
  • he quiets down, but then points out that it’s just them and continues screaming
  • when the movie was over, he basically sprinted out of the theater
  • mc bought him ice cream because his eyes were all red and puffy from crying
  • that night, she had to guard him from ghosts because he was having a literal, actual breakdown 
  • he fell asleep in her arms with the lights on


Jaehee

  • Jaehee’s never really been into movies, so she doesn’t really know how she’ll handle a horror movie
  • they go to see the movie and, woah, there’s nobody else in there
  • MC literally runs up and down the aisles trying to find the perfect spot to watch from
  • when she finds it, she settles in with her girlfriend and her popcorn and she prepares for whatever may come
  • this girl
  • holy heck 
  • she wasn’t scared at all
  • “That man is obviously not a real priest.”
  • “Jaehee, they’re actors.”
  • “I’ve never seen a priest that good looking. He’s not a priest”
  • “JAEHEE IT’S A MOVIE.”
  • “Who do they think they’re fooling with this animation?”
  • half way through, MC starts to wish that there were others in the room so that she’d be polite and shut up
  • “oh my god i’m never watching a movie with her again”
  • at home though, she’s a wreck
  • she starts burning incense and praying
  • is she crying???
  • Jaehee just wants to protect herself and her gf from demons thats all she wants
  • literally the only reason she was making so many comments during the movie was because she wanted to get it into her head that it isn’t real
  • that’s so sad she’s so precious this poor girl
  • moral of the story: don’t watch demon based movies with Jaehee


707

  • they saw the add for this really cheesy horror flick while watching late night tv and they decided they HAD to go see it
  • the next showing was in 10 minutes
  • “MC PUT YOUR OUTSIDE PANTS ON, WE’RE SEEING THIS MOVIE”
  • It’s absolutely freezing outside, so she literally wraps herself in a huge blanket
  • he thinks its adorable but there’s no time
  • they shove some HBC and Phd pepper in MC’s purse and carefully obey traffic laws speed fuckin racer it to the theater
  • they make it just in time, the movie is about to start
  • it’s like 2am on a Wednesday; nobody else is there
  • in the beginning they both really want to watch the movie, but
  • its just so bad
  • neither of them can get their brains to follow what’s going on
  • “Seven, this is the actual worst movie I have ever seen in my life.”
  • “You haven’t seen the Star Wars prequels then?” heyo
  • they don’t watch the movie
  • they lasted like 15 minutes before MC pushed up the armrest and cuddled into him
  • she takes the blanket off and wraps it around both of them
  • the next hour and fifteen minutes is mostly spent making out and making horrible commentary on the movie
  • “Hey MC I bet I can make this empty bottle onto the demon’s nose next time he shows up”
  • “I dare you.”
  • he does it
  • Seven dubs over all the characters and makes them assess their situation even worse than the original dialogue did
  • she cries laughing
  • after the movie, they go home and sleep because these poor sleep deprived children just need to rest
  • they make jokes about the movie all day when they wake up


Zen

  • Zen doesn’t really get scared by movies.
  • he just doesn’t
  • which made her think that it’d be a great idea to bring him with to protect her
  • even though it’s a Friday night and this is a pretty highly praised movie, there’s nobody in the theater
  • they get the perfect seat, settle in with their snacks, all is good
  • the movie isn’t too scary, but
  • the thing about this movie was that while it wasn’t scary in a psychologically scaring way, it was filled with effective jump scares
  • every time there was a jump scare, MC would “eep” a little bit and push herself closer to him
  • Zen thought it was the cutest thing and every time it happened, he’d just hold her tighter
  • after like an hour, the jump scares were toned down a little, allowing them to finally reach for their snacks
  • it was almost twenty minutes without a stupid demon screaming at the camera, so they both think they’re in the clear
  • the poor, poor idiots
  • they let their guard down
  • MC lets out a full scream and drops candy into her lap
  • Zen throws his popcorn up into the air and it flies two rows back
  • she doesn’t know whether to cry or laugh so she does both
  • “God damn it, my popcorn
  • Zen is pretty chill afterwards but poor MC jumps at every foreign sound
  • when they try to sleep that night, MC freaks out and insists on leaving the lights and TV on
Perfect #2 ll Spiderman Fan Fic

AN: hey guys her is part two of my imagine finally !!

Description : It’s finally homecoming , but Y/N is in for a big surprise . Leaving because of …reasons… she heads home . Where she is visited by our favorite webslinger . (Sorry not very descriptive , but otherwise … Spoilers ).

Warnings : Uhm kissing … not much really , a lot of fluff .

words: 2763

Part1

Originally posted by peterparkerimagine


It has been two weeks , since Peter taught Y/N to dance and their almost kiss . But things were still cool between them , Peter never acted weird as Y/N thought he would , well except for the fact that he disappeared more often than usual , because of that  Stark Internship  , she could almost hear Peter’s voice every time she thought of those words , since she heard it too often . 

And now homecoming was finally here , and Y/N couldn’t decide if she was happy or miserable about it . Yes she got to go with a really hot guy , not the brightest , but he seemed like a nice enough person . And Peter did ask Liz to the dance , which was good , because he liked her and that was fine , but why did Y/N feel as if she wanted to crush coconuts with her bare hands every time she thought about Liz and Peter being together?

She sighed , as she finished curling her Y/H/C hair , and placed the curling iron on the table , before she took the small silver leaf pin  and pinned a few strands of hair back . She then applied her makeup , not a lot , she was was not big on makeup , just the basics , some mascara , blush and lip gloss .  She heard a knock on the door , and quickly turned her head to see her mother walking in the room . 

Her mother gasped and said “ Y/N you look beautiful . “ . Y/N smiled , and turned , showing off her Y/F/C dress . She never really wore dresses , she preferred converse and band/ geeky t-shirts , but she loved this dress , it had a something special to it , something extremely Y/N . 

“Thanks mom . “ she replied , as she quickly grabbed her shoes  and put them on .  Just then the doorbell rang . Y/N looked up to see her mom glance at the source of the noise . Her expression was hard to read  , Y/N thought her mom would be excited , but she just looked a bit disappointed . “ That must be your date … uh what was his name again ?” 

“Brandon mom . “  Y/N said , as she stood up straight , glancing quickly in the mirror just to make sure she looked ok , before heading to the door. 

“It’s a shame Peter didn’t ask you . “ her mother muttered ,under her breath . 

“What ? “ Y/N turned to her mom , just to confirm she actually heard what she thought she heard . 

“Nothing . “ her mom said quickly . “ We should probably go open the door , and not keep the gentleman waiting . “ 

“Yep “ Y/N answered popping the ‘p’;

She opened the front door to find Brandon standing there in a suit , but he tried to pull off the  ‘I don’t care’ look , it did not work as well as he had hoped. His white button up shirt was halfway tucked in , and his tie was loose and skew . 

“Wow you look hot . “ he said when he saw her . 

“Uh than…” she said , but he cut her off  . “ Listen I’ve got a car downstairs , and the driver is waiting , we need to leave . “ he said quickly , and looked down at his phone . 

“Ok lemme just … “ but she had no time , he grabbed her wrist as he pulled her out of her apartment , and all the way out of the building . 

In front of the building , a large limo was parked , with tinted windows . He finally let go of her wrist and walked over to the car , opened the door and got in , leaving the door open for her  .   Such  a gentleman  she thought sarcastically , and got into the car . Brandon was already on his phone texting feverishly . 

She did not live far from school , so the drive was fairly short , and awkward , well at least for her , Brandon did not even seem to notice her , as he was on his phone the whole time . 

As the driver stopped in front of the school , she reached for the door , but then she noticed Brandon take a small silver bottle from his jacket , and he took a swig . “ Is that alcohol , she asked in shock . 

“Yep , tequila , you  want some ? “ he asked pushing the bottle under her nose , the smell put her off immediately .

“Uh no .. thanks . “ she said , as she opened the door to get out , he did the same , and quickly hid the booze .  Ok she knew they were 15 and almost legal to drink , but still , she was starting to seriously regret saying yes to him . 

He walked round the car to where she was , and held his arm out for her . “M’lady . “ he said smiling cockily . 

She sighed put on a fake smile , and linked her arm with his . And then they headed up the steps and into the school . Once they entered the gym , she gasped , she seriously did not expect them to make it look this good . The DJ played the music loudly . And people were dancing and enjoying themselves .

She was snapped out of her trance when Brandon spoke . “ I’ll catch you later . “ and not giving her time to respond   she walked off , and joined his friends . 

She sighed and scanned the dance floor , until she found a familiar face  , Michelle.  Y/N quickly walked over to her friend . 

“MJ! “ she called , catching  her attention , and receiving a smirk . 

“Wow you look amazing “ She said , once she was within hearing range of MJ.

“Not bad yourself Y/N. “ MJ said with a smile .  Before looking up and smirking at the door , showing someone her middle finger . Y/N spun around to see who MJ was signalling to . She caught sight of Peter walking into the gym . And he looked really handsome in a suit . She smiled , and gave him a quick wave , he just nodded at her and gave a small smile , but he didn’t look happy , infact he looked really upset and in shock  . She wanted to go over and talk to him , but he was heading to Liz , which made her stop dead in her tracks . Anger boiling in her veins . 

But Peter only spoke a couple of words to Liz , ‘I’m sorry ‘ was all she could read from his lips . Before he ran off . 

*

*

The evening only went down hill from there . After Peter left , Brandon went over and started talking to Liz , and even asked her to dance when the slow dance songs started . He had completely forgotten Y/N’s existence  . MJ was dancing with her date , a guy Y/N could not remember the name of , he didn’t have any classes with her . 

So she ended up sitting on  a chair in the corner of the gym , like the sad losers you always see in movies .And she hated it , this night was supposed to be fun and incredible , not boring and depressing . So she did the only rational thing , and went home . 

Luckily she had her train ticket with her , so she took the subway home . It was that last block that was torture , she knew she shouldn’t have worn heels . 

Her mom was already asleep when she got home , her mom  was a nurse in the hospital , and worked day shifts , meaning she was exhausted in the evenings . 

Y/N immediately kicked off  her shoes , as to not make a sound as she walked to her room .  She immediately stripped the dress from her body , not even bothering to pick it up , as it fell to the floor . she went to her cupboard , and grabbed the first thing she saw , which happened to be Pete’s hoodie , and she slipped it on . Not even bothering with pants , since the hoodie was big enough to cover her underwear .

 She then went to her bed , and fell face first onto the covers . She didn’t cry , although it would have been appropriate , nope she was just angry , for Brandon for being a dick , for MJ having fun , for Peter for not being there for her , although he might have had his reasons , but mostly for herself for not being strong enough to take a risk , and kissing Peter , all those times she wanted to . 

What was the worst that could happen right ? He could just reject her , and then be all awkward , then their friendship would be ruined , and then she would have to fake her death , get a new identity , and move to another country … see not so bad . 

But who was she kidding , life without Peter would be worse than a life where he didn’t love her back . 

The was pulled from her thoughts , when something tapped against her window rapidly . 

She walked over to it , and opened it , only to reveal , their friendly neighborhood webslinger, Siderman. 

“You ? “ she asked with a frown . 

“Were you expecting someone else ?”  he asked with a groan . 

“No “. she answered “ I.. I wasn’t expecting anyone . “ she stuttered a bit . 

He chuckled a bit , but it sounded pained . She then realized he was clutching his side. “You’re hurt. “ she stated matter of factly . “Come in . “ 

He climbed , well more stumbled in , and she led him to her bed . “Sit . “ she ordered , and he obeyed without resistance . “I’m just going to get the first aid kit . “ she said before heading to the bathroom . She had to admit , having a nurse for a mom , had it’s perks . She quickly grabbed all the supplies , and hurried to her room again , where Spiderman was still sitting in the same position .

“Uhm … I’m going to need you to take our suit off , for me to help you . “ she said , feeling a bit awkward asking him to take his clothes off .

He nodded , and pressed on the spider emblem on his chest , and the suit loosened , and   he shrugged it off his shoulders , wincing a bit at the movement . He kept his mark on though , which was fair , she thought , he had to protect his ‘secret’ identity . 

She looked at his toned torso , and she really had to refrain , from running her hands all over them . On his side was a large gash , and the bleeding seems to have slown down . Red suit is smart  she thought  so bad guys can’t see you bleed . 

“This might sting a bit . “ She said , as she  put antiseptic on a cotton ball , and placed it on the wound . He hissed in pain “A bit ? “ he groaned . 

“Oh shut up you big baby . “ she said , as she focused on cleaning the wound 

Peter smiled at her words , she always said that to him when she helped him if he got hurt , not as Spiderman though , this was the first time he came to her as Spiderman . 

He looked down at her figure , her hair was still curled , a bit more messy ,but still beautiful . he admired the pin in her hair , it always reminded him of the pins the hobbits were given in Lord of the Rings . He glanced down at her face  . She always complained  saying that she wasn’t flawless like other girls , but to him she was perfect , and flawless .  His eyes widened as he noticed she was wearing his hoodie , and her legs were bare , unless she was wearing really short shorts . He nearly groaned at the sight , liking this view ,a lot. But he cleared his throat to cover the groan . 

“What?” she asked , since this was the first sound he has made in some time . “N…Nothing . It … it’s just … areyouwearinganypants?” he asked , her hands stopped stitching him up , and she looked up at him . 

“No . “ she said not missing a beat . “ And you’re not wearing a shirt , it’s a good combo don’t you think . “ she said and looked down at his torso again , finishing her task . 

“I like your hoodie . “ he said after a moment of silence . 

“Thanks it’s yo… uhm a friends , I like to steal his hoodies . “ she said , and smirked . 

“He’s lucky to have you in his life . “ he said . 

“I suppose . “ she muttered , and cleaned up everything she used , and went to her table and placed the kit there , before she turned to him again . 

He opened his mouth to object . but she spoke first . “ Well you’re all patched up . But I would suggest not moving too much for a while . “ she said crossing her arms , feeling a bit exposed in just a hoodie . 

“Thanks , I’ll leave now . “ he said , and bent down slowly to pickup his suit , to put on . 

“I’m not chasing you away Pete , besides I have enough of your clothes for you to sleep over . “ She said .He paused , and sat back up to look at her , he pulled his mask off , revealing his face , which had a huge bruise on his cheek . 

“How did you … ? “ he started . 

“You’re an idiot you know that . “ she said and smiled softly . “ I’m your best friend , I see you nearly 12 hours each day , well less now . But still , you seriously think I would not notice you making web-fluid in your science desk drawer .” He stood up , and just stared at her  . “ The way that each time you run off , Spider-man appears . And I’ve been around you long enough , to know exactly what your voice sounds like , you stupid   …” in less than a second he closed the gap between them , and brought his lips to hers .

It took a moment for her to realize what was happening , but once she did , she did not hesitate. She wrapped her arms around his neck , and moved her lips with his .  He tightened his grip around her waist , trying to eliminate any space between them .

They eventually broke apart , because of lack of oxygen . 

“Wow” she said breathing heavily . 

“Yeah . “ he said just as out of breath . “ You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that . “ he admits . 

“Seriously ?” she asked “ You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to do that . “

He chuckled . “ Well then I’m glad I did . “ he said and rested his forehead against this . 

“Can we do it again ? “ she asked shyly . 

“Hell yeah . “ he said and crashed his lips to hers again , this time not holding back . 

Hey guys so this was my two part imagine . Hope you liked it .

I do take requests , if you wanted to know . 

@parkerbpete @parkerroos @webslingerholland @tomllholland @writing-marvel @spiderparkerboy


I thought you guys might like this , if you don’t want to be tagged again , you can just let me know  :)




First Impressions ; L. Donghyuck

➮ for: @giirlfriendd

➮ your name: submit What is this?

➮ words: 1.8k

➮ genre: angst, soulmate

➮ words: 2.5k

➮ genre: fluff, drama, au 

➮ summary: Y/N’s mother sets her up on a blind date, but when he turns out to be the worst date ever, a young gentleman swoops in to rescue her, and take her on a true date.

request masterlist


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.

“I’m Y/N.”

“It’s a pleasure, Y/N. 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…”

“It’s not…”

“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.”

“Thanks.”

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?”

“Medicine?”

“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.

“Nothing scary.”

“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.