#and a clip of rain blowing compressed air into his face like a dog with its head out a car window

[sanstropfremir]

Hey! What did you think about KBS Gayo Daejun? I’m still making my way through the stages but it’s so nice to see more third gen groups there *cough MAMA cough*

hello hello!! i also haven't watched every stage but also there were SO many, so i'm not gonna do a whole long post like i did for mama. i will talk about some of my faves though!

i generally really like gayo daejuns because they're basically just music shows with a little more special sauce, and i like that sort of middle range between a normal stage and a big stadium event like mama. this provides an opportunity for groups to spice up their performances a bit without the same massive pressure of production value and in that way it's a little more equalizing. i do wish they hadn't cut up the performances by song because it was pretty clear that most of them were meant to run together (per artist, i mean). it's a petty grievance but i have those sometimes.

my favourite stages were, to no one's surprise probably: sf9, sunmi, and red velvet. nearly choked on my goddamn lunch being so aggressively confronted by jaeyoon in that tiny tiny sparkly bolero jacket, and honestly every outfit in that stage is whiplash inducing. taeyang? that fluffy thing youngbin was wearing?? rowoon's floor length sparkly duster???? there was so much happening. god i really wish they had promoted for more than a week. red velvet as always performs excellent and i wasn't expecting to see psycho in 2021 but i'll never say no to that. i also wasn't expecting sunmi to do a league cosplay stage but...happy belated halloween i guess??? her stylist absolutely fucking NAILED it though, and the you can't sit with us outfit too, wow. brave girls had a great stage also even their outfits were extremely unflattering, which is rare for them. i liked the skz stage as well, even though it was pre-filmed. tbz's christmas version of thrill ride was cute, i really liked nu'est's remix of inside out, and liked that kang daniel chose to do antidote (one of my sleeper faves from this year) even though i think paranoia was the more popular of the two songs. loved the inexplicable decision to launch mark and jeno in the air on springboards at the beginning of the universe stage, it brought some much needed levels to everything. couple of other costume standouts: i liked the detailing on txt's jackets and big fan of the weird 2000s techno feel of aespa's outfits. also the silhouette of minyoung's dress for that ost stage was really lovely even if it was constructed a bit weird when i saw it in close ups. i didn't particularly like the legends of kpop stage but there objectively wasn't anything wrong with it, it just wasn't all that interesting to watch, and the way to go cover was fine, but felt weirdly disconnected? i think it was my brain trying to reconcile the very very current styling with a song that is very deeply engrained to look extremely 2010. everything else was fine and/or not really my speed, but that's pretty normal as far as watching a big show with lots of groups goes.

[fidothefinch]

Stuck with You

Batfam Week Day 3: Injuries/Bonding During a Mission

Ao3

“For the record, this is the singular worst hiding place I have ever had the displeasure of using.” Damian’s legs were cramping from holding his position for so long, but he didn’t dare move. The rain made everything slick, and he couldn’t afford to lose what traction he had.

“Yeah, well, you’re welcome to find a better one.” Tim’s voice, coming from somewhere behind and slightly above Damian, was too tired to sound annoyed. He was having difficulty holding still, too. “Still beats staying to take care of B.”

Damian scrunched his nose at the reminder. His father did not take the flu gracefully. “There is no time to rework our strategy. If this plan fails, it will be your fault alone.”

He could almost hear the eye roll. “Uh-huh. Okay, Robin.”

A noise came from outside, and they both stilled, straining their ears. It came closer, but when it passed the opening of their hiding place it was no bigger than a squirrel.

Tim shifted his weight carefully. “If the drug dealers want to get here soon, my back would appreciate it.”

The tube slide was made for children, after all. It was not meant to accommodate two vigilantes for hours on end.

The slide was bright yellow, the inside was covered with lewd graffiti, and it smelled like feet. But it was a small price to pay for the shelter the tube provided. As Damian had to begrudgingly agree, it was the only real hiding place on the playground close enough they would be able to catch the dealer in the act.

Lo and behold, the playground mulch was disturbed again as another figure shuffled by the slide in the dark. By the two-beat rhythm, Damian guessed it was a human.

They fell into silence.

Several minutes passed. The lone figure circled the playground several times, never quite finding a place to rest to wait.

Finally, the feet stilled. Tim tapped Damian on the shoulder, and Damian nodded he noticed. Within a minute, another set of footsteps ambled across the playground, guided by the glow of a flashlight.

“Are you Ray?”

“Depends on who’s asking.”

The voices were muffled by the plastic, and even Damian had trouble making out the words. Carefully, he let himself slide down their hiding place. Just an inch.

A hand tapped his shoulder.

Damian scowled and looked back at Tim, who shook his head.

Damian rolled his eyes, threw off Tim’s hand, and braced his legs to prepare another miniscule movement.

When he turned back, there was a dog at the base of the slide.

Almost as though it could sense his gaze, its eyes shot over to him.

It growled.

“Up, up!” Damian hissed, pushing on Tim’s foot to convey the message.

The dog jumped onto the lip at the base of the slide and started barking. Damian had barely risen an inch before it tried to climb after him. Its teeth snapped around the empty air where his foot had been half a second earlier.

Damian grit his teeth and kicked out at it, wincing at the yelp it gave when he managed to clip its nose. The dog slid down and off the bottom of the slide, but there was no use in staying.

They had been spotted.

“Hey! Who’s there?” The light swiveled and illuminated the slide, highlighting the stark graffiti on the inside. Then it wobbled, and there was the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

Damian crept backward, but his boot hit a wet spot and he lost traction.

“Robin!”

Damian’s cape pulled taut, and it was his only saving grace when a bullet shot straight through the slide’s walls, narrowly missing Damian’s stomach. Tim hauled him up out of reach.

“Time to go.”

Damian couldn’t argue.

He scrambled up the slide after Tim, only pausing a second to allow Red Robin enough time to throw a smoke bomb ahead of their exit. Rebreathers in place, he followed Tim out into the open air.

Another gunshot went off. Red Robin flinched in front of him, but it didn’t slow his momentum. The older boy leapt over the iron railing and dove to the ground to face their pursuers head-on. Damian ran further down the play structure and waited until Red Robin had pushed the man back far enough he could swing around the fire pole and use the momentum to kick the man across the head.

The man fell hard.

Damian landed easily and wiped his hands off. “Tt.”

The other man, the one who had arrived earlier, was already across the field lining the playground. Ran at the first sign of trouble. As Damian watched, Red Robin’s grapple hook wrapped around his legs, and the man fell.

Smirking, Damian looked to Tim, ready to offer a quip. He paused at what he saw.

“You’re bleeding.”

Tim’s jaw twitched. His grapple fell from a lax hand. “Just a flesh wound.”

It was not.

Even as he said the words, his leg buckled underneath himself. Damian dove in to catch his shoulders before he hit the ground.

Tim clamped a hand over his thigh, but it wasn’t enough to stop blood from seeping out between his gloved fingers. “This would happen.”

Damian shifted Tim’s weight, pulling the taller boy’s arm over his shoulder as support. It didn’t really work; the height difference too great. “I will have to carry you.”

Tim snorted. “Yeah, right.”

But they didn’t really have any other options.

So Damian crouched down in front of Tim. He braced himself on his knees. “Here.”

Tim just stood there. “I can’t believe you’re offering me a piggyback ride.”

Damian grit his teeth. “I can still leave you here. I could call B—”

“That’s a low blow.” Tim braced one hand over Damian’s shoulder. “Are you sure?”

Damian scoot back underneath him more, so Tim’s front was resting against his back. “Hurry, before I change my mind.”

Tim still hesitated. But when he leapt up with one foot, Damian was easily able to catch him underneath the thighs. Tim hissed at the pressure on his leg. “Watch it!”

“TT. Hold on.”

Tim wrapped his arms around Damian’s neck. When Damian stood, he could not straighten his posture lest he risk overbalancing, but he held Tim’s weight relatively easily. “This should not be so easy. When is the last time you ate?”

Tim was quiet. That’s when Damian knew the time to joke was over. “Red Robin?”

“You know, I don’t know?”

Damian pushed Tim up a little so he could reach the treats in his pocket. The dog was watching them, and he could tell by its silhouette it didn’t like them. “You should take better care of yourself.”

Finding the treats, he threw one over for the dog. It sniffed it before gently picking it up and trotting over to sit next to its felled master to eat.

“Because I’m useless as a crimefighter when I haven’t eaten?”

“Because you’re a human and your body requires nourishment.” When Tim didn’t answer, Damian jostled the load on his back. “You are not allowed to lose consciousness.”

Tim hummed behind him. “I’m going to call the police, let them know they’re here.”

It was clearly deflection, but Damian let it slide. Blood loss, after all.

The smaller boy carried Tim past the playground, out of the park. He picked through the city, trying to keep out of sight. It was a quiet night, but they were compromised. He did not want to give any idling criminals ideas.

For the most part, Tim remained silent. Damian tapped his legs every few minutes, and Tim tapped his chest back. Still here.

When they had reached a safe house, Damian carefully lowered Tim onto the fire escape outside the apartment so he could open the window.

“Thanks.”

Damian stopped fiddling with the locking mechanism in his surprise. Then he doubled down his efforts to cover his hesitation. “TT. You must be delirious from blood loss.”

“No, really,” Tim whispered. “Thank you.”

The window slid open on silent hinges. Damian stepped through to make sure it was safe, and stepped out again to help Tim through. “You do not need to thank me. I am only doing this so Father does not bench me, as well.”

Tim pushed his cowl back to reveal a look of pain. “Oh, God. I hadn’t even thought of that. He’s going to kill me. You should have just left me to bleed out.”

Damian dragged Tim to the bathroom, where he forced him to lie down so he could examine the wound. It wasn’t as bad as they had thought. The bullet had sliced a deep cut across the exterior of Tim’s thigh. Nothing a good compression bandage and a few weeks’ rest couldn’t fix. “I would not do that.”

Tim went quiet again. Damian pulled out his first aid kit and began working on his leg. “I was serious. You really should take better care of yourself.”

Tim’s face screwed up. “Never thought I would hear that from you.”

Damian frowned. “Despite our history, I do not wish you ill.”

A sigh. “I know that.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as Damian finished dressing the wound. He helped Tim sit up against the bathroom tiles, and fished out some painkillers (and light sedatives) for him.

Tim downed them dry. After making a face at the taste, he bluntly asked, “Are you going to tell Bruce?”

Damian studied the wall next to Tim’s head. He knew Tim was talking about more than the immediate wound. “Not yet.” He sliced his gaze to make eye contact with Tim. “A night’s rest, and then I will make a decision.”

It was no promise. Tim nodded in acknowledgement. “Okay.”

Damian acted as a support so Tim could stand, and together they hobbled over to the couch in the sparse living room.

They didn’t sit long before Tim slurred, “You drugged me.”

Damian smirked. “Technically, you drugged yourself.”

Tim groaned, sliding further down the couch. “Still beats spending the night with Bruce when he’s high on Nyquil.”

On that, Damian could agree.

He waited until Tim was asleep to send a quick message to Alfred about their whereabouts and Tim’s injury. Then he pulled a blanket from the bedroom and draped it over Tim’s body before stumbling to bed himself.

There was a conversation to be had in the morning, but it could wait. It had been a long night, after all, and Damian could not risk being made a hypocrite.

Rest it was.

[excuseme-youpretty]

Pairing: Kim Namjoon / Reader

Side Pairings: None

Rating: Teen

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 3,748

Warnings: Brief allusions to sex, but nothing too graphic.

Notes: This oneshot was requested by anonymous. They wanted adorable fluffy Namjoon spending a rare day off with his partner. I hope, wherever you are, that you liked it and I’m sorry for the delay ♥ I’ve had a virus that’s been kicking my ass.

Make your own requests: HERE

As you fold your body up on the axis of your hip, rotating in a clean arc to reach across the mattress toward Namjoon's designated patch, you are fully expecting to feel the cool compress of abandonment rippling along your sheets. 

It's always the same, the harsh bite of cold satin which has somehow preserved your boyfriend's silhouette and the residual cling of his cologne; leaving you a little disappointed but nevertheless eager to progress your day until his inevitable return.

Only on this morning it is not a reminiscent frost that you feel, but rather an unmistakable warmth and the soft, shallow breaths which can only belong to one man.

Namjoon wakes you organically, with lips of spun sugar and the barely-there pull of his teeth leaving a curl of calligraphy along the underside of your jaw. He tastes of peppermint and sunrise, pulling you from the remnants of your sleep with a soft exhale of your name.

"Good morning, Princess." He sighs, nuzzling a deliberately soft semi-circle just beneath your ear. "Or should I say 'good afternoon'?'"

The hot midsummer sun bleeds through your aerated curtains like tangerine paint dripping from a saturated canvas. You can hear songbirds twittering enthusiastically just outside your window and the elated laughter of children participating in a rowdy all-bets-off game of kickball in the park across the street. 

Everything is go go go. Nonstop motion. Somehow, the world ticks on in spite of your unorthodox absence.

The crab-shaped clock on the wall indicates that you have missed breakfast. You are close to missing lunch, too.

And you couldn't be more delighted. 

Because with Namjoon, days off are as rare as a rainstorm in the middle of the Sahara; a much-deserved rejuvenation.

"What time is it?" You whisper, your words  coming out all slurred and sleep-blanched. 

Namjoon presses a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. "Well, let's see… I accrued three missed calls and four text messages before finally deciding to just turn off my phone."

"Ah, so the children are missing your effervescent presence then?"

"It would appear so. As long as we can get through the day without Yoongi-hyung committing mass Fratricide, I'll consider it a victory."

You can't help but to giggle at the notion as unprompted visuals of an unamused Yoongi wrestling with a quartet of multicolor leashes, each one connected to the torso of a hyperactive dongsaeng, and Seokjin's disapproving pursed lips, overwhelm your senses. 

"And in the meantime? You have a whole twenty-four hours before things return to normal. How do you want to spend it?"

Namjoon answers your question with the brush of his lips against your own. He takes his time claiming your mouth, his lips startlingly hot in contrast to his sweet and minty tongue.

Namjoon's fingers weave slanted tendrils down over the bare flesh of your pelvis as soon as you part, summoning a film of goosebumps to the surface of your sun-soaked skin. 

You shudder helplessly as you ride out the residual sensation of such an earth-moving kiss. 

"Mmm… Well, I hope you're happy, Mister. That kiss just wasted a good five minutes of free time."

Your boyfriend's teeth pull a fluorescent pinstripe across his bottom lip, seemingly lighting his way as he begins his slow descent down your exposed stomach and between your thighs as they give without much instruction.

"If you call kissing you until you're weak a 'waste of time' then you're really gonna hate this next part, Princess."

The tip of his nose skims past your naval, crafting a pathway for himself in the stipple of airbrushed freckles which blossom on your skin. And yet, you are quick to catch the nape of his neck with your fingers, maintaining a barely-there hold of his hair to prevent him from creeping any lower.

"Hold up there, Handsome. How about we nail two birds with one stone? There's a hot, soapy untimed shower with your name on it. And I'd be more than willing to help you scrub any… hard to reach places~"

Namjoon tilts his head back inside your loose grasp, the pads of your fingertips pushing through his silvery-blonde strands to rest almost tauntingly against his scalp. He purses his lips in thought.

"Well, I'd be a fool to refuse such a titillating offer." He presses a large open-mouthed kiss to the underside of your naval. "And I'm no fool."

You are plucked from the barely-there drape of your duvet before you can reasonably react, Namjoon's arms imprisoning your midsection and hefting you skyward before carrying you into the cool porcelain of your bathroom.

-

The water which had cascaded down from your shower faucet was luxuriously light, a sprinkling of powdered sugar across your sleep-eased muscles. And yet the petting was nothing short of heavy. 

Namjoon had taken his time working sweet-smelling suds into your skin until you gleamed with sparkling iridescence; scents of lavender and violet mingling with the sharp musk of your boyfriend's shampoo. 

He had kissed you until your lips ached, buttering you up with an overdose of affection even as you stepped out of the shower and into the baked afternoon sunlight.

After a brief rendezvous in your closet, one which had taken longer than necessary to navigate thanks to Namjoon's wandering hands and greedy lips, you both finally settled on outfits which would compliment such a rare day off. 

He now sits across from you, grinning from ear to ear as he indulges himself in a

verifiable cloud of scrambled eggs and generously buttered toast; the first home-cooked meal he has had the pleasure of tasting in far too long. Even Seokjin's schedule has become so saturated that he can no longer find the time to finesse his way around their dormitory kitchen. 

Who would have thought a group of seven growing boys could survive on a consistent diet of frequented takeaway restaurants and prepackaged vending machine snacks?

He always looks so beautiful like this, dressed in nothing but a pair of faded jeans and a simple t-shirt. His hair, still damp from your shared shower and lacking any product, hangs limply around his handsome face in a fashion not too dissimilar from the signature whistle necklace draped across his chest. 

"I swear, babe, this is amazing." Namjoon croons, using a napkin to stipple away the loose crumbs which have gathered in the crevice of his ever-present smile. "What's your secret?"

Pushing your fingertips through the damp sheen of his hair, you take a seat beside him and indulge in a long, contemplative sip of your orange juice.

"A whole lot of love for my boyfriend and an unreasonably long night's sleep."

Namjoon's grin is so vast that his eyes momentarily disappear into little crescents. 

"That's fair."

He wraps an arm securely around your shoulders, tucking you into his hip where he feeds you small prisms of toast and watches as the amaranth horizon dances across your cheekbones.

You feel the cold, wet compress of a soft puppy nose brushing against your calf when RapMon darts wildly between your ankles. He yips musically, vibrating with an overdose of unexpected energy as though he himself had also indulged in a deliciously long slumber and was now reaping the rewards of his pent-up energy. 

Namjoon can't help but to laugh, the sound reverberating in tandem with the small bell looped onto Moni's technicolored collar. 

"I think our Puppy is ready to hit the road. Don't you, Princess?"

"It would certainly appear so."

You watch as Namjoon cross-hatches his thumb across an array of emails on the screen of his business cell phone, organising them into their designated folders, before he opts to switch off the device all together.

Following his lead, you gather up the empty breakfast plates and place them in the sink; deciding rather quickly that all dishwashing tasks are a problem for a future you. You take a bottle of chilled water from the fridge and grab Moni's collapsible bowl as well as his monogrammed leash, clipping it in place upon his collar and earning some gentle puppy-dog kisses in response.

You run your fingers through Moni's soft fur, giving special attention to his pointed ears and muzzle. Placing an affectionate kiss to his snout, you rise to your feet once more and turn towards your boyfriend.

Namjoon rattles his house-keys with a grin.

"Ready to get some sunshine?"

"With you? Always!"

-

The scarlet-hot skyline reflects prettily upon the shimmering silver swingset where you perch, your toes dangling mere millimetres above the dew-slicked grass. Scents of fresh pine and spring flowers permeate the air, as well as the sugary sweetness of cotton candy being spun into cute little beehives by a nearby vendor. 

At the centre of the park, a small group of children are having a competition to see who can blow the largest bubble. Like confetti, the air is full of shiny little bubbles as they rise up to the sky. And darting after them with an open mouth and comically wagging tongue is a soap-spritzed Moni. 

The children shriek with laughter, running around in circles with Moni bouncing merrily behind them. 

Namjoon's fingertips brush over your shoulders as he pushes you gently on the swing. He traces plump cartoon hearts over the nape of your neck, erecting a small film of goosebumps with every stroke. 

"It's such a gorgeous day out." He muses, turning his head to place an unexpected kiss against your forehead.

"Yeah, we really lucked out. Summer sunshine allll day."

"I'd take thunderstorms and heavy rain in a heartbeat as long as I get to spend the day with you, baby."

Ever a poet, Namjoon's words leave your insides tingling akin to sticky sherbet and fizzing pop rocks.  

"Dork~" You chastise in a soft voice full of mirth. 

You can feel his infatuated grin press into the back of your neck, his fingertips twirling around the stray strands of hair which ribbon over your noon-warmed cheeks.

"Only on my days off."

When Namjoon's digits begin to sway across your collarbones, you concertina them gently between your fingertips. You bring his hand to your lips, kissing across his skin with an audible smack. The pad of his thumb skims over your cheekbone as though he were an artist buffing paint across a canvas.

"You're so beautiful, Princess." He muses.

His words take on an illustrative quality; as though he were scribbling his infatuation across clean journal pages. And yet, before you can respond, he's dipping down just out of view to clasp a fistful of lawn.

"What're you doing, Joonie?"

"Just wait and see - It's a surprise."

Behind you, you can feel Namjoon's fingers work with fast needle-sharp precision. The rounded edge of his nail pierces through stem after stem as he braids several dainty daisies together into a makeshift crown. 

"Now, what is it that every princess needs, baby?"

"Her Prince Charming? Or Prince Destroys-Everything-He-Touches, whatever works."

"This is true." Wiping away the residual pollen on the leg of his pants, Namjoon takes a step closer toward you. He carefully places the crown on top of your head. "But she also needs her very own tiara!"

Grinning maniacally, you bring a hand up toward your head to stroke over the small stack of downy-soft petals which frame your forehead. 

"You're so cute, you know that?" You shriek, gasping when Namjoon presses a stream of rapid open-mouthed kisses against your glowing cheek. 

"Yeah, it's a special gift of mine. Come here, gorgeous."

With his hand outstretched in front of you, Namjoon holds his phone poised on both of your grinning faces. He snaps picture after picture, selca after selca, honing in on the kaleidoscopic shimmer of your eyes and the iridescent glow of lip balm which has transferred from your lips onto Namjoon's.

You stay like that for what feels like an eternity; dissolving into a world where your boyfriend's palms leave semi-permanent prints upon your hips from how tightly he embraces you and his laughter resonates deep within the crevices of your soul. 

Namjoon's cellphone feels positively heavy with the weight of all the memories you have captured together. From the soft and tender lip-locks, to the poorly performed rendition of Magic Shop, to the footage you filmed of a hyperactive Moni playfully chasing a butterfly through a cluster of dandelions. 

You have squeezed an entire month's worth of desperately craved affection into a single afternoon. 

-

It is only once the air begins to develop the faintest tickle of frost that you finally decide to depart from the park.

Namjoon's jacket falls around your shoulders like a cloak of denim. His cologne overwhelms your senses, scents of crisp waters and juniper berry, and at your feet walks a very tired but exceptionally happy puppy.

After briefly stopping by your favourite local bookstore to purchase some light reading material, as well as picking up an order of strawberry croissants and freshly brewed coffee from the quaint little patisserie where you and Namjoon had your first date, you finally arrive home. 

You unclasp Moni's leash, prompting him to scurry enthusiastically over toward his pet bed for a well-deserved nap, and retreat back to your own bedroom in order to slip out of your dress and into something more comfortable. 

Namjoon's old sweatpants drape around your hips like an elasticated hula-hoop, just barely held in place by fraying cord and sheer willpower. The sweater you have liberated from the back of your closet was once a Christmas staple before the gaudy crimson bows fell off, leaving a simple doe in its place. There are pinhole sized holes all over the elbow and sleeve, as well as a fraying hem, and yet you always find your greatest comfort when dressed in those faded and pilling fibres.

Once you have changed into your lounge wear, you return back to your living room to find Namjoon staring purse-lipped at the carpet beneath his toes. He has his business cell phone tucked in against his ear.

"So there's no major emergency then, Guk? Because this is supposed to be my day off."

You can just barely make out the airbrushed whistle of Jeongguk's voice tittering apologetically on the other end of the phone. 

"Yes, she's here." Namjoon glances up at you, smiling fondly as you throw yourself down on a nearby couch. "We're about to settle in for the evening actually, so - I… yep, okay. I'll tell her. Mhm. I will. You too, Kookie. Aight, bye."

"That sounded like fun~" You tease, wedging your spine backwards into a mismatched eruption of multicolored pillows. "Are all six members present and accounted for?"

"So far. JK sends his regards."

Rubbing away the small pearls of tension which had accumulated in his temples during the duration of his phone call, Namjoon places his cellphone down on the coffee table. He passes over your coffee order as well as a beautiful ooey-gooey strawberry croissant and folds his large limbs over the criss-cross of your own.

His lips are a scarlet compress of sugar-syrup kisses against your cheek as he presses small puffs of laminated pastry into your open mouth. 

"Now, what are we watching, Princess?"

-

It is surprisingly easy to dissolve into a rarely-negotiated routine with your billion dollar boyfriend. 

With old Friends reruns playing quietly in the background, interrupted only by the occasional snore from Moni as he navigates his way through a puppy dreamland, and the balanced warmth of Namjoon's large fingertips weaving aimless patterns across your scalp, your afternoon bleeds well into the evening before Namjoon's ravenous stomach alerts you to the passage of time.

Your fingertips have been fragranced by the scent of persistently thumbed pages, and you have just reached the point in your novel where the fair maiden must choose between the handsome but tender farm-hand or the rugged but passionate business executive.

You spare a glance toward your own leading man. With his deep-set dimples and a smile which could thaw the Arctic, you conclude that you have your own fairytale ending right in front of your very eyes.

"Hey, seeing as I'm in such a good mood, why don't we start on dinner? We can attempt that spaghetti recipe again!"

You can't help but to tut at the notion. "You mean the spaghetti recipe which nearly burned our entire kitchen down?"

"That was an accident. It could've happened to anyone!"

"You tried to cook the pasta without any water, Namjoon-ah."

"In my defence, I followed the instructions carefully. 'Cook the noodles in a pan.' I did that."

"Oh, they were cooked alright." 

You giggle in response to Namjoon's petulant pout, smothering the blush of his bottom lip in a brief but affectionate kiss. 

"How about instead of turning our kitchen into a living charcoal exhibit we order takeout from that Italian place you love?"

Namjoon's stomach rumbles with ravenous hunger as though in response to your proposal and you can't help but to laugh as you reach for the phone, having already committed your boyfriend's usual order to memory.

-

It is less than an hour later, once your stomachs have been sufficiently plied by copious quantities of rich, herby sauces and ribbons of silken (and most definitely not cremated) pasta, that Namjoon is curling back into your hip with a well-worn notebook in hand. 

You have both settled on a film for the evening, opting to delve headfirst into the technicolor vibrancy of San Fransokyo with Moni settled comfortably upon your lap and the fuzziest blanket imaginable draped around your shoulders. 

Namjoon's breath is deliciously warm where it unfurls across your throat, dripping like molten honey into your collarbones and stippling a light film of goosebumps across your skin. You can't help but to shudder as his lips find your temple, your cheek, flowing freely across the ridge of your jawline until he finally settles against the upturned curl of your lips.

"I love you so much, Princess." He sighs, inundated with adoration for his girl. 

"Not as much as I love you."

As the movie plays quietly in the background Namjoon's fingertips are ever-moving. The light scrape of his pen nib darting across clean paper provides a percussive soundtrack  to Baymax's bumbling antics, the edge of his palm stained by faded charcoal ink from touching the page before his words have sufficiently dried.

Out of the corner of your eye you can just barely make out the curl of Namjoon's haphazardly jotted Hangul, piecing together the sentences he has written in your honor.

'...Your eyes are a sunrise which blanch my skin and leave me burning all night long.'

'... Your smile, sweeter than candy, paints syrup in my veins with every glance.'

'... When you say you love me I can feel it resonate skin-deep, stacking promises like petals in my ribcage.'

Namjoon's lyrics are picturesque and beautiful. Even without the accompaniment of instruments and production you can practically feel a cococonphy of emotional ARMYs singing along passionately to each word; as though wearing your boyfriend's carefully scribed poetry like a badge of honor.

To be the inspiration behind so many awe-inspiring songs, whose lyrics act like a beacon of hope for many individuals scattered throughout the universe, well… it's quite the undertaking. 

Fortunately, Namjoon makes it all worth it. He's handsome and expressive and capable of leading an entire ARMY into a head space of pure gold. 

And as he pulls your body a fraction closer to his own, the tip of his nose nestling against your pulse point to emboss an asymmetric heart on your honeydew skin, you realise you couldn't possibly love him any more.

-

As the credits for Big Hero 6 begin to roll across your television screen, stark and loud and full of celebratory fanfare, Namjoon is quick to locate the television remote underneath his saturated notebook pages in order to hit mute. 

Beside him your eyelids have fallen to a close, lips parted to release several soft snores which fall in almost perfect tandem with Moni's fitful exhales. Your lashes flutter delicately, poured like strips of raven lace across your cheekbones, and your fingers curl instinctively in your lap as you clutch onto whatever adorable projection your mind has chosen to supply.

Placing his notebook and pen aside, Namjoon is careful to shoo RapMon away from your lap so that he does not disturb you. He half-attempts to fold the blanket which had cocooned your shoulders, opting instead to toss it onto the nearby recliner out of harm's way.

Your body is feather-light when he lifts you into his embrace. He is careful to rest your cheek against his chest, hooking your legs over his forearm to make it easier to transport you to the safe haven of your bed. 

After navigating your hallway with a surprising degree of sufficiency, having knocked over little more than a plastic vase containing decorative pebbles and perhaps skewing a photo frame or three, Namjoon carefully places you upon your bed. 

Your mattress seems to eagerly welcome the barely-there compress of your body, your satin sheets lapping up against your limbs like terracotta waves frothing upon the shore.

Once he has dimmed the lights, Namjoon places his cellphone down onto his bedside table and connects his charging cable once he is certain that he has reinstated his god-forsaken alarm.

He kicks off his jeans, opting to remain in his t-shirt and boxers for tonight, and carefully removes his whistle necklace so that he can slide comfortably in bed beside you.

Your perfume lingers upon the collar of his shirt, fragrant and floral and enhanced considerably by the catalyst of Seoul's delicious summertime air. And on his lips burns the faintest smother of the strawberry lip balm you so generously applied after your post-dinner teeth cleaning; the very same lip balm that Namjoon had been so eager to kiss off of you.

In your sleep, you turn comfortably onto your side, bowing your spine backwards until you reach the solidity of your boyfriend's elongated torso. Namjoon is quick to bracket his calf around your ankles, pressing a stream of steady kisses down your jugular and over the swell of your clavicle.

"Sweet dreams, my Princess." He sighs softly. Contentedly. 

His lashes soon begin to droop as though laden with lead, influenced in no small part by an entire day's worth of carefree relaxation and indulging without consequence. 

No meetings. 

No leadership.

No band mates. 

Just his beautiful dog, his beautiful girlfriend and a beautiful twenty four hours.

[avengers-nextgen]

We Are One XIX

“James, there’s an issue on the upper floors. S.W.A.T decided to pull their heads out of their butts,” Alex’s voice sounded through the earpiece only making James’ head ache more.

“Get them off,” he breathed, standing weakly.

“Alright.”

James picked up his gun and checked the clip. He hadn’t lost any rounds. Resting the weapon snugly into his palm, he stood taking in the mess at hand.

Nathaniel had started frantic CPR on Chloe while Arthur attempted to fend off Killian by himself. He was holding his own fairly well but the emotional toll of Chloe’s state was wearing him down.

“Nathaniel, do you need me t-“

“Just incapacitate that bastard anyway you can!” Nathaniel called not pausing his chest compressions. Nodding, James grasped the metallic cylinder at his hip. The weapon expanded into a gnarled blade resembling the tip of a scorpion tail. Rushing to Arthur’s aid, James leapt from the roof of an abandoned car raising the knife above his head.

Booting Arthur in the gut, Killian turned raising his staff to bar James’ attack. Already with a second plan, James used their locked weapons to jerk Killian into his up-striking knee. For the first time James had managed a successful retaliation against Killian.

The other boy recovered quickly whilst swinging his staff at James’ head. Ducking the blow, James slashed at Killian’s leg when a violent shock raced down his back. Seeing James’ struggle Arthur flung a glowing whip of magic capturing Killian’s arm. Tugging on the tendril he managed to pull Killian away from James.

But what seemed like a good idea quickly turned sour when the staff pierced through the tether. Electricity arched through the tendril blasting Arthur backwards into a street pole. He didn’t get up.

“James!” Nathaniel yelled drawing the attention of the younger boy. “Use the gun!”

“We bring them in alive!”

“We don’t have time!”

“Nathani-“

“James, I’m asking you to do this. Please.”

Heart hammering, James glanced from Nathaniel to Killian. He sheathed the knife in a swift motion while drawing the gun. All the while Killian watched. “Hands up!”

“You know I won’t do that,” Killian shook his head.

“It’s over,” James glared, striking up his fighting stance.

“It’s over when I say it is.”

“Your friends are losing,” James lied, “and most of them are dead. We’re supposed to take you alive but the more you resist-“

“We knew what this entailed,” Killian assured, “and that was the embrace of death.”

“You can change that,” James shifted his hold on the gun feeling his palms grow sweaty. Killian only shook his head as dark clouds formed above.

“Kill me.”

“No.”

“James, it’s you or me. There is no middle ground here. Put aside your heroic facade,” Killian paused in his advances letting the sky turn to chaos. Winds began to build and the thrum of thunder rolled above. “Take the shot.”

“I don’t kill unless I have to,” James swallowed though his mouth was dry.

“Then you will perish,” Killian sighed, “and it will be as I feared. You and your friends should have learned. You should have stepped aside.”

“The minute I do that is the minute I compromise all I believe in.” Killian nodded at James’ words as if he had expected them. The boy’s eyes closed in the briefest expression of peace. When they opened all that could be seen were white irises crackling with electricity.

“James!” Nathaniel screamed. “Finish this!”

“No!”

“If this lightning discharges it’s going to blow the entire building!”

“I can do this!”

“No you can’t! This isn’t your call!” For the first time in years James felt truly helpless. He didn’t kill unless it was a last resort. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t the right way to end things. Because like it or not, Killian had a family, he had a heart, and even if it was in the wrong place it still beat. It was still the source of a life. A soul.

Water fell in small droplets that only grew in size until James’ tears could be mistaken for the rain.

“Stop. Turn yourself in! Don’t make me do this!” James cried.

“There comes a time when every boy has to grow up and do what they don’t want to. Why do you think I’m here?” Killian asked, tightening his grip on the staff. He was nearly there. Nearly powerful enough to make a final statement.

“You’re delusional if you think this will fix anything!” James yelled. The gun quivered in his hand. “Can’t you see you’re exactly what you hate?”

“Maybe I am....” Killian raised the staff. James closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. A bang tore open the sky and blood painted the street.

— — —

“Ophelia.” The word struck something in her that hurt more than anything she’d ever felt before. In one fell swoop, Drew fell to the ground clutching her splitting skull with tears on her cheeks.

Images of smiling faces flashed against the back of her eyelids. Words of affection, sounds of laughter, mocking remarks, teasing replies, and sounds of play echoed in her ears like phantoms. With each new sensation the pain magnified until it was no longer her head that ached but her chest and her stomach and her legs and so much more.

Orion scrambled to his feet watching wide eyed as his cousin writhed in agony. Guilt crept into his chest for inducing such pain, but it needed to be done.

Part of him wanted to help but the other part had no idea how. What was there for him to do? He didn’t know the programming in place, didn’t know what she was seeing, and he certainly didn’t know how horrible it felt.

But what broke his heart the most was the choked cry that escaped Drew’s lips, “Help me. Please.”

Her entire body was shaking like that of a frightened dog’s and her eyes refused to focus on anything but him for that brief moment.

“What’s-“ Scout ran to stand beside Orion wearing a similar expression of conflicted surprise.

“Please,” Drew cried in raspy despair, “O-Orion.”

“Scout, we need to take her home,” Orion looked imploringly at his boyfriend who nodded in reserved silence. “Will you-“

“I’ll fly her,” Scout promised, giving Orion’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, “and I’ll see you there.”

Kneeling, Orion collected the weak girl where she curled into his chest as if he could hide her from the pain. He watched Scout take off in a hurry with Drew positioned carefully in his arms.

— — —

Siyanda spotted Piper fly overhead before hovering above the flaming building. If things went well the fire danger would at least disappear but that didn’t eliminate Kubu.

Using the wall for support, Siyanda stood once more and staggered around to the front of the building. She rounded the corner in time to see Thalia deck Kubu in the jaw. Stumbling, he lashed out with a vengeance once more. Heart pounding with resurfacing adrenaline, Siyanda entered the fray once more.

Leaping, she slammed both feet into Kubu’s back sending him crashing through the gas station window. Glass rained on the stained floor only worsening the mess.

Jumping through the broken window, she seized him by the back of the neck and smashed his face into the ground. Grunting, Kubu turned throwing her free. Wielding an empty snack stand he slammed the structure across Siyanda’s back.

With each second that passed they grew sloppier in their fighting as fatigue set in. Shelves were strewn about in cluttered messes and the machinery was given a violent makeover.

Somersaulting through a wall, Siyanda struggled to recollect herself once more. A white form loomed in the entrance way but it disappeared seconds later. Panting, the princess crawled through the rubble witnessing a scuffle for control.

Finding one last burst of energy, Siyanda prayed that the fight would be done. She couldn’t last much longer. So with a final charge she struck with all the force she could muster.

Metal claws sank through flesh and grated against bone. Her hit had pierced Kubu’s armor and embedded her hand in his gut. Silence settled as both registered what had just happened.

Then, slowly, Kubu gave a slurred laugh as he removed his mask. “It is finished.”

Siyanda watched wide eyed as his knees gave way and Kubu slipped free of her hold collapsing onto the floor in a pool of blood. Chest heaving, she tore off her own mask feeling oddly light headed and disoriented.

“Si?” The faint, hesitant voice drew her back to the present.

“It’s okay, Thals. It’s over.” Turning Siyanda flashed the blonde a weak smile when she noticed the blood. Thalia was holding a quivering hand to her bloodstained chest. The smile that had so quickly come fled in an instant.

“Did we win?” Thalia asked seeming unaware of her injuries as the shock set in. Siyanda gave no reply. She only called for Piper in a desperate plea over the coms.

— — —

Sage woke to the sound of screaming that chilled her blood. Shaking away the fog of unconsciousness she scrambled quickly to her feet searching for the source of the noise. What she saw made her stomach turn.

A white wolf was tearing into Bianca’s back like a carnivore who hadn’t been fed in years. Horror turned to anger. Vanishing and reappearing beside the creature just as a metal apparatus was torn free with a blood curdling scream, Sage blasted the enemy back creating a safe distance between them and Bianca.

Blood dribbled from Max’s mouth and the metal device clattered to the street as the air grew thick. A faint green glow seemed to fill the sky. As the shade intensified Max felt like they were suffocating. There was no oxygen to breath.

Sage wasn’t sure how she was doing it, but she knew she was. Rage had turned her blood into a boiling cauldron and the air was being stifled all around Max.

What she couldn’t see, they did. Max’s lungs ached with a need for oxygen but all they could make sense of was the two glowing eyes glaring back at them. Max had never seen such hate before and it terrified them to the core. They thought for certain the were to die when something broke Sage’s concentration.

All at once Max could breath freely again. A pitiful whimper forced its way free as they saw the damage that had been done. There was blood everywhere, skin in ragged pieces, parts exposed that shouldn’t have been, and worst of all-they were responsible for it.

Guilt sent a wave of nausea through their gut. With a lowered head, Max attempted to move forward. Attempted to apologize, or offer help, or something-anything. But Max was stuck. Stuck in this wolve’s body and unable to change.

“You’ll be okay,” Sage promised, but she was beyond terrified. There was no way to make sense of the injuries, make sense of the carnage, or anything that had happened. All she could do was stroke her friend’s hair muttering fake promises while waiting for help to arrive. “I’ve got you. You’re not going anywhere B. Okay? Help’s on the way I promise.”

But there was no way of knowing how quickly help would get there and Sage was left praying to any person she knew of- that Bianca would make it out of this. That she would be okay.

[robertmcangusgroup]

The Daily Thistle

The Daily Thistle – News From Scotland

Thursday 17th August 2017

"Madainn Mhath” …Fellow Scot, I hope the day brings joy to you…. Morning Fellow Scot, I hope things are fine where ever you are and we seem to have readers all over the world, .. Estepona where I live was visited by the Saharan Sand God last night as all the vehicles parked in the roads are covered with sand… not it wasn’t an act of vandalism.. it was an act of nature, when the wind blows from the south and there is enough humidity and rain clouds form, the clouds are blown across the Mediterranean where they pick up more moisture finally arriving to the coast of Spain, and are stopped by the mountains and compressed by the clouds following until they rain… and in the rain drops are tiny particles of sand that came up from the Sahara Desert in the updraft winds… and low and behold, when it rains, yellow cars, streets, trees, buildings… The things you can read about in The Daily Thistle… OK, crunchy walk completed with Bella, she’s asleep after drinking her fresh water, I’m going to pour the coffee, maybe this morning I’ll pour two one for me, one for you… I’m enjoying your company and perhaps a Digestive cookie…??

SHEEP WORTH £10,000 STOLEN FROM PERTHSHIRE FARM…. Police are appealing for information after 134 sheep worth almost £10,000 were stolen over a nine-month period from a Perthshire farm. The animals were taken from the farm near Comrie sometime between September and June. The blackface ewes and hoggs all have identification chips marked with the UK0543847 number in their ear tags. The stolen sheep also have half-moon-shaped clips - unique to their home farm - on both ears. A Police Scotland spokesman said: "It is appreciated that this is a long period of time and the area of farmland is extensive, so it is unlikely that anyone may have actually witnessed any of the thefts. "However, it is possible that members of the farming and rural communities may have come across some of the animals being offered for sale."

SCOTTISH SALMON EXPORTS REACH RECORD VALUE IN FIRST HALF OF 2017….  Scottish salmon exports reached a record value of £346m in the first half of 2017 - up 70% on the same period last year, government figures reveal. The industry saw 29,000 tonnes of fresh salmon worth £190m sold in the second period of this year alone. That was a near 10-tonne increase on the 19,150 tonnes (£109m) exported in the corresponding period of 2016. The United States remains the largest market, while China (£44m) is the most significant Asian buyer. The HMRC figures are a welcome boost to the industry following revelations that it is facing major problems from sea lice. It is believed Scottish producers are having to spend at least £30m a year on measures to respond to the issue. However, consumer demand for the fish has continued to rise - pushing prices to record levels. Scott Landsburgh, chief executive of the Scottish Salmon Producers Organisation (SSPO), hailed the latest export figures. And he pointed to the development of the Far East marketplace as being a major factor. Mr Landsburgh said: "The fact that annual Chinese exports are now worth around £90m from a standing start six or seven years ago indicates that this has been worth the effort. "East Asian markets are becoming increasingly significant, with Taiwan and Vietnam in the top 10 importers. "We continue to see the huge global opportunity for high-quality Scottish food and for salmon, in particular. "Quality and provenance are highly prized in all markets and Scottish salmon fits the bill. Its traceability from source to plate is another respected attribute in the Far East."

UNION CHAIN BRIDGE WORK SEEKS INCREASED FUNDING SUPPORT….  A council is being asked to increase its financial contribution to a proposed £7.8m upgrade of a bridge linking Scotland and England. The Union Chain Bridge - built in 1820 - crosses the River Tweed from Fishwick in Berwickshire to Horncliffe in Northumberland. It has been on Historic England's Heritage at Risk register since 2013. Scottish Borders Council has already committed £550,000 to the overhaul but is being asked to contribute £1m. When it was officially opened nearly 200 years ago, the structure was the longest wrought iron suspension bridge in the world. However, it has become structurally unsafe and can now only be accessed by one light vehicle at a time. Northumberland County Council (NCC), Scottish Borders Council (SBC) and the Friends of Union Chain Bridge are working together on the project to safeguard the future of the bridge near Berwick-upon-Tweed. It is hoped the works can be completed in time for the bridge's 200th anniversary It requires urgent conservation and engineering repairs to secure its future. A funding bid for the restoration is now being prepared for the Heritage Lottery Fund, with a maximum of £5m available towards the bulk of the work. NCC has approved a report increasing its financial commitment to £1m and now SBC is being asked to do the same. It would see funding from its roads and bridges capital budget diverted to the project. It is hoped the works can be completed in time for the 200th anniversary of the bridge's opening in 2020.

SCOTLAND'S OLDEST REACTOR TO BE DEMOLISHED…. The Dounreay Materials Test Reactor was constructed in the 1950s and is Scotland's first operational nuclear reactor is to be demolished. The Dounreay Materials Test Reactor (DMTR) achieved criticality, a nuclear term referring to the balance of neutrons in the system, in 1958. The site at Dounreay, near Thurso, was built using 600 tonnes of steel. It was shut down in 1969. Large parts of the DMTR site have already been demolished as part of wider work to decommission the Dounreay nuclear power site. The control room desk and panels for the reactor were moved to Caithness Horizons, a museum in Thurso, in 2015. A contractor has been sought for the work of demolishing the reactor. Other parts of the DMTR site have already been demolished Notice of the contract has been released on 60 years since the first criticality was achieved in Scotland. A system known as a rig and named the Zero Energy Thermal reactor installed at Dounreay in 1956 went critical for the first time on 13 August 1957. This was the first artificially made criticality in Scotland. Bill Lambie, DMTR project manager, said: "This month we celebrate the 60th anniversary of the first criticality in Scotland, which took place in a temporary test rig. "That was an immense achievement, and we are now poised to demolish its successor and the oldest reactor on site, DMTR. "The removal of DMTR from the skyline will be a significant step for Dounreay, and will be a real and visible sign of the decommissioning progress being made."

SCOTS BAND TRIUMPHS AT WORLD PIPE BAND CHAMPIONSHIPS….  A Scottish band has triumphed at the World Pipe Band Championships, fighting off a strong challenge from last year's Northern Irish victors. Inveraray and District Pipe Band won the contest, beating Field Marshal Montgomery Pipe Band who came second. Almost 35,000 people attended the two-day event held on Glasgow Green. A total of 219 bands including 8,000 pipers from 15 nations took park in the contest, now in its 70th year. Inveraray and District Pipe Band, from Argyll, was re-formed in 2004 by its current leaders Stuart Liddell and Steven McWhirter. The previous pipe band in Inveraray had disbanded in the 1930s. Field Marshall Montgomery have won the contest five times in the past six years, including four victories in a row between 2011 to 2014.  Glasgow's Lord Provost Eva Bolander, who was Chieftain of the World Pipe Band Championships 2017, said: "My heartiest congratulations to everyone who competed at the World Pipe Band Championships. "As a former pipe band member I know exactly how much work goes into producing such magnificent performances. "Next year will mark 70 years since the Worlds were first held in Glasgow and we are already looking forward to another fantastic occasion."

On that note I will say that I hope you have enjoyed the news from Scotland today,

Our look at Scotland today is of the  Inveraray and District Pipe Band the World Champions.....

A Sincere Thank You for your company and Thank You for your likes and comments I love them and always try to reply, so please keep them coming, it's always good fun, As is my custom, I will go and get myself another mug of "Colombian" Coffee and wish you a safe Thursday 17th August 2017 from my home on the southern coast of Spain, where the blue waters of the Alboran Sea washes the coast of Africa and Europe and the smell of the night blooming Jasmine and Honeysuckle fills the air…and a crazy old guy and his dog Bella go out for a walk at 4:00 am…on the streets of Estepona…

All good stuff....But remember it’s a dangerous world we live in

Be safe out there…

Robert McAngus