SHE’S IN LOVE WITH ME AND THAT’S A DRUG IN DANGEROUS DOSES

Reblog if you think Moon Taeil is essential to NCT.

I’m trying to prove a point.

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[11:56]

“Donghyuck,” Renjun spoke, stuffing another piece of sushi into his mouth, “Who are you texting?”

The said boy looked up from his phone fast enough to break his neck, wide-eyed and stuttering. “Why?” Donghyuck looked at the three boys in front of him, “It’s none of your business.”

“You’ve been grinning like a six year old girl for half an hour straight. Who is she?”

Donghyuck glared up at Jaemin, who simply grinned and made kissy faces at him. “Its Y/N, okay? I asked her out last week.”

“And you didn’t tell us?” It was Jeno’s turn to get nosy, “How was the date?”

“We’re going out again tonight.”

Hoots and hollers erupted from the table, and Donghyuck could do nothing but gush and grin at the thought of it again.

The boys grew silent as they saw you walk into the hall with your friends. You instantly looked at his table, grinning wide and sending him a wave. Your friends replicated what Donghyuck’s had just done minutes ago, and you pushed them into the queue for your food, still grinning and occasionally looking at his table.

Donghyuck simply turned around, looking back at his friends. “She’s great.”

peachy-yoonoh

You can only reblog this today.

hello!!! i'm still catching up with your writings but i know you are the loveliest so... if you are still taking requests, could you write haechan enemies to lovers and prompt 20? thank you 💚

member: lee donghyuck e2l!au, hogwarts!au prompt: “we have a problem.” wc: 714

-

“We have a problem,” Donghyuck of Slytherin tries to warn you before you enter the Great Hall. His presence comes as a surprise to you, not used to seeing him so early in the morning. He’s as handsome as ever with his dyed brown locks framing his perfectly sculpted face, something you would never admit out loud-- not because you didn’t want to but because you had to keep that thought to yourself, for your family’s pride depended on it. 

“Out of the way, snake,” you say back but Donghyuck only fights for your attention once more. The student body is used to seeing the two of you attack each other with insults but the looks they are giving you this morning are something you’re not familiar with. They look amused with their teasing smirks as they stare knowingly at your bickering bodies in front of the large doors. You’ve been getting these stares as soon as you entered the hallway leading up to the Great Hall, snickers following you as soon as you passed by a pair of mischievous red-headed twins. 

“Wait,” Donghyuk wraps his hand around your wrist, dragging you out of the morning crowd’s view. It’s nothing much, it’s just his long, dainty fingers tightening around your arm but it never fails to send a flurry of sparks down your spine. You feel your heart leaping away much like the chocolate frogs you loved to consume in your free time. 

He suddenly stops in a hidden staircase, away from curious eyes, and he buries his head into the crook of your neck. His breath tickles your skin and his toned arms circle around your waist, the actions sending your heart aflame. You smell the peppermint of his toothpaste and the comforting scent of dry cedar that drives you absolutely insane.

“Donghyuck, please, what are you doing?” you hiss at him. “Someone could see us!”

Your so-called rival only buries his head more into you and the material of his robe shroud you with a warmth you only felt around his presence. “Doesn’t matter,” he mumbles into your skin. “They already know.”

“What?”

“The entire student body knows,” the overly affectionate Slytherin replies as he places a kiss on your temple. 

You yank away from him with widened eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

It was then you realize Donghyuck isn’t wearing his usual colors; instead of the usual green and silver he parades in, you see him bashfully wearing your house colors. “Why are you wearing that?” Instead of replying, he juts his chin out to gesture at your uniform.

Glancing at your own clothing, you finally noticed that you were dressed in Slytherin colors with his name proudly embroidered on your tie. Your hands tug at your tie and robes as Donghyuck watches you with a fond smile. “W-what is the meaning of this, Hyuck?”

“You know how the Weasley’s caught us the other day with that blasted map of theirs?”

“Yes? They greeted me rather weirdly this morning,” you told him.

Donghyuck coughs at that comment, trying to figure out how to break the news to you. “They, uh, enchanted our ties to match our partner’s colors. So when I walked in this morning, everyone saw your name on my tie and found out.”

“Blast those twins,” you curse. You had to get them back later.

“I know you wanted to keep this a secret-- I’m sorry,” he apologizes. It was true. Your families were rivals in a sense and you wanted to keep up with the pretense, afraid of disappointing your family. Hiding your relationship with Donghyuck was one of the hardest challenges you had to face. Cursing him and throwing insults at your lover was far from fun and games.

“No, it’s okay,” you reassure him with a smile. He brings the back of your hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss on your knuckles. “I’m tired of hiding, family rivalries be damned.”

“Yeah?” Donghyuck smiles at you.

“Yeah,” you giggle back. “Besides, maybe I want to go on cute Hogsmeade dates with you without sneaking around.”

When Donghyuck pulls you into a kiss, it beats the feeling of flying on your trusty broom. It’s nothing short of magic. He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours. “Well then, let me walk you to your table.”

vulpetrope | konbini snacks and drinks based on pokemon

Some racist asshole run a muslim family down with his pick-up truck this afternoon in London (Ontario), killing four and leaving only one family member alive. The terrorist was a 20-year old islamophobic dude who targeted muslims and wanted to kill as many of them as possible; when the police arrested him, he was wearing body armor, he had intended to commit more than just murders. There's a 9-year old who lost his family and is in the hospital right now. It's heartbreaking.

More info:

Killing of Canadian Muslim family with truck was hate crime -police

still here

summary: it all started with a kiss from your best friend, mark. and most cases, one night stands do not usually end well... right?

note: best friend!mark, sexual implications, cursing/profanities, making out? and purely confused and panicking mark lee.

genre: 99.9% angst and 0.1% fluff | word count: 1.5k

- mark never had a good night's sleep in a while until now.

he opened his eyes and the window to his left side almost told him “good morning”, so bright, so sunny. but he looked at the bookshelves beside a study table, and the bulletin board stacked with utility bills and polaroid films of friends just above a supposed to be a replica of surely an andy warhol pop-art painting.

this was definitely not mark’s room.

he was about to remove the blanket that is sitting on his legs when a figure beside him shuffled a little. the back facing him was bare, messy hair all he could see. but he instantly recognized it, and the room, for so long; because it was you.

slightly panicking, mark carefully removed the warm clothing above his thighs then there he saw that he was only wearing his boxers. right above, just a little, he could see the messy lining of his shirt, and it was definitely worn the other way around.

he rose from the bed carefully, avoiding causing any disturbance. mark made sure his footsteps were inaudible while he was looking for his pants and grey hoodie on the floor. he slowly picked his jeans up, but the belt still made a faint clang noise that he held it so tightly while putting it back on. he also removed his wrinkled, reversed shirt so it would be worn correctly this time before topping it with his grey hoodie.

then mark just… stood there in front of your bed, watching you, trying to recall what has happened last night. then it was all slowly coming back to him.

now, if you happened to wake up at this very moment, then what would he do?

-

mark bit his lower lip as he was trying to answer the question he is about to face later on. he suddenly felt the need to apologize.

maybe because may have been selfish.

he suddenly kissed you while watching before sunrise. maybe, just maybe, if the romantic and sexual tension were not so intense throughout the film, then he would not have needed to finally act upon what he has been thinking all this time.

but the fact that you gave in... god, he thought, you gave in. no sight of alcohol around, just pure sober thoughts. mark has no idea where he got the push.

but was he remember asking you if you wanted it. mark needed the confirmation, just to make sure you are on the same page as him.

“you want this, right?”

you were catching your breath from the heated kiss when he asked. and yes, you wanted more.

“i would not hold back this time, baby”, you giggled. you liked him calling you baby. “are you sure?”

“mark..." you replied. "baby…”

you were straddling him and started kissing his neck again. mark’s eyes were closed and feeling his crotch against your clothed sex, but he was not so sure that you understand; that if you continue along, the morning may not be the same anymore.

and now, with mark wondering, here we are.

so he removed your arms, now wrapped around his neck while you planted kisses on his cheek, and firmly intertwined his hand with yours.

mark looked you in the eyes so intently, your gaze could not leave his.

“i’m asking again,”, he emphasized. “are you sure you really want to do this?”

and it took you seconds to nod, as you had already caught what he is thinking—the consequences, the adjustments, the confrontation to be served via breakfast.

“mmh”, you hummed.

“words. i need to hear it.”

“yes, mark. i want this.”, you replied. “do you?”

“yes, i do… so much.” he put his palm on the right side of your cheek, just a little graze yet soft, so warm, so lovely. “you have no idea.”

mark has been staring at your still-sleeping figure for too long. too long, really. should he just leave a text that says, “hey... we need to talk about last night.”? or maybe go for an old-fashioned way and write a note saying “i had to go. errands.”, when in fact, it is a sunday morning and he is actually on work leave?

but omitting some words behind these questions, should he leave?—the simple question as it is, but would he be treating you the same as his one-night stands? for him, you deserve more than just ditching and letting avoidance do its own work at this point. you are a friend—the best friend.

you finally shuffled from your former position, still sleeping. from facing the back, your body is now almost facing where mark stands still. his fight or flight response is now asking him several questions. he wanted to run from the consequences he emphasized last night. he thought he could handle them but fuck, no.

mark, noticing that you were still unconscious made him run his fingers through his hair. slightly frustrated and he may have muttered "fuck, fuck, fuck!", a little too loud and-

“just lock the door when you leave, mark.”

mark froze on his feet, mouth agape at your sudden words.

you said it so... nonchalantly. and so you went back to your former position, facing your back against him once again too quickly but still, eyes closed.

you were waiting for him to leave immediately now you may have answered the thing that has been bugging him for minutes now.

and of course, you knew the moment you gave in, there was no turning back. you wish you could say “i love you.”, but you would have rather devour into the kiss, hoping your actions would translate those words instead. so you went along; touching him for the very first time, and feeling all of him for the last time.

but what hurts most is that you know where this is gonna go, that you will wake up to the sounds of shuffling and rummaging the one-night stand’s clothes on the floor, and the footsteps while the guy is putting his shoes on. and what has happened this morning so far is no exception.

maybe mark was too kind just to leave because you are you. and it stings more to know that you are just… a friend.

and it hurts more to see that he was ready to go.

so you just had to instruct him what others usually do. and you just wish you woke up a little later on an empty, messy bed—finding him gone for good.

-

mark felt a strong pang struck into his chest. he felt like his heart is being held tight, being twisted, being ripped into pieces.

and it hurts him more that you thought he was going to leave, that you thought he was going to be another one-night stand, and that you have already accepted that everything that you both went through is now ruined.

so when mark walked towards the door, your breath suddenly hitched but was inaudible. he clicked the lock, turned the doorknob, and you heard the door opening and closing.

you finally let out a sob that has been desperately wanting to be released as he was collecting his things.

tears damped your pillow until your cries lulled you to sleep.

-

your room is illuminated by the sunset, thanks to the always bright window. already past afternoon, you managed to escape the dreadful morning.

a little foolish of you, really, to check your phone and hope mark would leave a text. you chuckled at the ridiculous thought, only to find your notification bar empty.

but then you heard faint noises coming from your living room. a little shuffling and steps over there. you stood up and opened your door.

and there he was, actually in the kitchen, checking out what is in your refrigerator. you slowly walked in his direction.

“mark?”

he turned around and said, “hey.”

“what are you doing?”

“trying to cook.”

and he was holding his phone, and there appears to be a cooking tutorial paused on the screen.

“cook what?”

“pesto…? actually, dang, you don’t have enough ingredients so i’m just gonna do a quick run at 7/11 so—”

“mark?”, you asked, now more confused than ever, “you never left.”

for mark, this was never a mistake. he had wanted and waited for this for so long. this—overcoming the boundaries and just feeling you entirely–the making out, the fucking, the embracing, the tangled bodies, the intertwined hands, the how are yous, the sharing of joys and growing pains, everything and more; and most importantly, the i love yous.

he finally did not walk out the door for once, now that he has had you in his arms last night. no fumbling with the bags this time.

enough of the jealousy and the constant checking of his phone, waiting for a text after you went out on a date, thinking he is going to lose you to another guy because mark could never say how much you mean to him. no more subtle touching, like how he likes it when he wraps his arms around your shoulders. sometimes, he would just leave it there after saying he needs to protect you while crossing the street. and more, so much more.

mark needs more—never from but of–mark needs more of you. because good god, for once, he knows what love is—and love is the entirety of you.

so mark just shrugged with a sheepish grin plastered on his face.

“still here, baby.”

and you loved that cute, stupid smile every single time.

what a sight.

10:18PM — yukhei’s eyes are shining when he spots your waiting figure backstage, adrenaline still running through his veins as the fans cheer. when the lights turn down low and the staff are sure you aren’t in the crowd’s line of sight, he wastes no time in rushing towards you and sweeping you off your feet.

“oh my gosh,” yukhei breathes out shakily after twirling you around, hands cupping your cheeks and squishing your face lightly, “are you really here? is this you? how? you told me—“

“i came to watch the show,” you grin, placing your tiny hands over yukhei’s larger ones, “i was in the crowd, but baekhyun must’ve recognised me because he told some staff to bring me up backstage when i separated from the crowd to ‘go to the toilet’. so here i am.”

“b-but, you told me you couldn’t come because of school and work—“ he stammers, but you laugh.

“how could i miss my baby’s debut stage? i came for your other two, so why wouldn’t i now?”

yukhei stares at you for a few more moments, eyes wide as he takes in the fact that you were actually here. when he does, his face breaks out into the widest smile and he takes you in his arms again.

“i’m so glad you’re here,” he says, voice muffled from where his face is buried in your hair. you turn your head to kiss the side of his neck affectionately. “did i make you proud? was i good onstage?”

“it was amazing,” you assure him, smiling brightly when he pulls away, but only to kiss your lips with a giddy grin on his face, “you were amazing, always.”

ill-fated.

word count: 4,009

genre: fluff, angst, badboy!hyuck

member(s): donghyuck, mentions of jeno, renjun, jaemin, & chenle

warning(s): none, but probably the usual bad language and typos

author’s note: i half love this but im not sure what i feel for the other half,,,, either way i hope you enjoy it

Inhaling, you closed your eyes and placed a hand to your chest, tapping your fingers gently against your body as you told yourself, “It’s alright. It’ll be fine. It will be over before you can even think about it.”

Pursing your lips and breathing out harshly, you shrugged your shoulders to release the tension in your body, reaching a hand out and wrapping your fingers around the brass knob. You could already hear the muffled voices of the others, who were expecting your arrival on the other side of the door. Mustering the courage that you very much needed, you turn the knob and push the door forward, the pungent smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol welcoming you.

“You’re here!” A semi-drunk Jeno greets. He stumbles forward, almost colliding into you. You turn your body sideways, allowing him to brush past you as he leaves the room, shouting, “Wee break!” Jaemin lazily responds with a groan, a smile plastered to his face as he stirs, readjusting his position on the couch. He spreads his arms across the backrest, throwing his head back to rest it against the wall.

Your eyes go past him, going over the endless amount of beer bottles sprawled across the table. Shot glasses were toppled over, chips were scattered across the floor, lighted cigarettes decorated the leather couch, the half-sober bunch spread across the room. Your eyes travel past Renjun’s lifeless figure, finally landing on the one person whom you dreaded to meet – Lee Donghyuck. Unlike the rest who already seemed to have lost it, Donghyuck was seated comfortably on the couch, a leg crossed over the other, a shot glass in hand. He swivels the yellow liquid, eyes dark and unfocused.

Your eyes linger on his face for a moment; purple bruises on his cheek and at the side of his lips, coupled with cuts that sat on his forehead, the bridge of his nose, and his jaw. You blinked a few times, feeling your heart swell ever so slightly at the sight. Your eyes continued to trail down his body, his hands and knees the only other areas of visible skin. He donned his favourite black leather jacket, a loose white shirt underneath, and a pair of black jeans that were ripped at the knees, a chain hung across his hip. You noticed the red, swollen cuts on his knuckles, your chest tightening further.

Thoughts begin to cloud your mind, your eyes landing on the carpeted floor. Two seconds later, your eyes snap back up to meet Donghyuck’s in reaction to his voice. “You’re here,” he says.

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