#he ate whole lychees???
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🦋
#just sat through a 15min video without realizing it of a guy doing food asmr in the messiest way humanly possible.#it was the exact opposite of what i would associate w asmr. just. a trainwreck. for 15min straight.#he ate whole lychees???#the mouth equivalent of stepping on legos.#he didnt even flinch.#i am in awe.
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With Baker’s Love. (Valentines Day 2024 Special)
As the Baker, you made sure every one of your cookies felt like they were cared for, that you watched over them as evenly as every cookie across Earthbread. The chocolates you send into various mailboxes were always a treat to the cookies, something that they savored and cherished throughout the day…
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Yogurt Cream Cookie rode upon his flying carpet as he headed to the front of his palace. Normally, he’d have his servants handle things for him. On the day of Valentines though, he must be the one to inspect what’s sent to them. It’s just as delectable every year, a packaged box of heart shapers chocolates along with a note of love from his beloved Baker.
He couldn’t help but smile to himself as he read it, popping a chocolate into his mouth. He sighed contently as the pure sweetness of the chocolate melted as he ate it.
“The sweetest when they make it themselves. Truly something that Coins can never buy…~”
He floated back inside his palace with the box in his hands, nothing but the Baker on his mind…
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Walnut Cookie could not have pulled out the two boxes of chocolate fast enough from the mail as she hurried back inside, Almond Cookie couldn’t help but smile at his daughter’s enthusiasm, he did a good job keeping his hidden. The Baker’s chocolate was the best there is, the sweetness gave him the energy he needed for the number of cases he was on for the week, it surpassed even that of the coffee he has on occasion.
“Looks delicious! Oops, I should’ve tested if it’s safe to eat first…”
Walnut felt embarrassed to have gone through most of her box already in front of her dad, something he assured was okay. This was chocolate, not evidence of a crime scene. He couldn’t help but chuckle a little bit when Walnut went right back to enjoying her box, as he ate some chocolate himself, feeling energized already. If he could taste love in food, he was tasting it right now…
Baker, never stop being incredible, he’d thought to himself.
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Gifts never failed to make Strawberry Cream Cookie feel a bit warm, he still remembered Stollen Cookie gifting him a story book. But when it came to gifts from the Baker themself? He’d drop whatever he was doing and get it right away, the chocolate box was no different.
He made sure to go to somewhere secluded in the academy to taste them, he couldn’t stop the blushing when the first chocolate touched his taste buds, it felt like a warm hug that made him his whole being shiver
“With this, I’ll never feel tired running through the forest..”
He had another and another and another, never getting over the taste…
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“I knew the Baker was in love with me.”
Lychee Dragon Cookie couldn’t stop the sly smile on their face when they received the chocolate addressed from the Baker. It was such a not-surprise to them that it garnered no bigger excitement then a brief wide-eyed look.
“I don’t need chocolates to know the Baker had fallen for my charms, heehee”
Hearing that, one of their monsters tried to take the chocolate from them…only to be met with an extremely angry Lychee in return!
“HEY! I NEVER SAID I DIDN’T WANT THEM! GO AWAY!”
The monster understandly retreated away in fear from Lychee’s outburst as they continued to glare at them from afar. Lychee did a double check around before opening it and hastily eating a piece, unable to stop the dreamy sigh from them.
Just one “I love you, Lychee Dragon Cookie” from the Baker’s mouth themself, just one….and they’ll be a happy dragon for a long time…
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“Very classy~ You know my tastes very well, my Baker~”
Chocolate Bonbon Cookie couldn’t help but admire the way the chocolates looked and tasted, it was like they were expertly crafted specifically for her tastes as she brought them into her establishment.
The texture, the refined flavor, nothing short of amazing that she should’ve expected from the Baker. That never stops her from getting surprised that the chocolates only seemed to taste even better every year!
It just gave her so many new clothing and style ideas that used the finest chocolate she can get, It would be no problem to even send you some of them as a thank you for the chocolates.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to keep in touch with her fellow fashion cookies..if only to have some more of your chocolate from them, she giggled to herself.
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Valentines Day was just one of many occasions to show how much you adore your cookies, even newcomers that had joined you were never treated any differently then ones that have been with you since the beginning. A chocolate from you is enough to make their day, maybe even their whole month!
#cookie run x you#cookie run x reader#cr x reader#cookie run#cookie run kingdom#crk x reader#cookie run kingdom x reader#cookie run ovenbreak#cr ovenbreak#crob#crob x you#crob x reader#yogurt cream cookie x reader#almond cookie x reader#strawberry cream cookie x reader#lychee dragon cookie x reader#chocolate bonbon cookie x reader
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every south asians childhood cartoon!!
if ur fave childhood cartoon isnt here or u dont know the ones on here and ur south asian, DW ABT IT POOKIE AS LONG AS U EAT MAGGI..
#1
if u didnt watch atleast ONE ep of this, then DO !! its so funny and i love kris so much ( it IS a hindu base cartoon SO!! )
#2
did you even HAVE a childhood... also NOT the jp ver, the hindi dub ver 🙏🏽 the intro to this song is so fire like YES NINJA HATTORI TU HE MERA DOST💋
#3
i didnt watch TOO much of this show but it still belongs its place on this list!! I actually tasted the irl ver of doraemons pancakes(??) and it was FIREE!! But Shizuka and Nobita rlly reminded me of Kenichi and Yumiko! JUS SAYINGG
#4
LITERALLY MY WHOLE CHILDHOOD.. ate this up after school so QUICK like i sat through every cement ad, noodles ad, head and shoulders ad for this cartoon !! my fav was inspector chingum LMAO
#5
(almost got kulfi on my keyboard OOPS) ANYWAYS!! the intro of this show was trending and i DIDNT EVEN REALIZE!! love this cartoon, OGGY WAS A CAT???
#6
NOW.. i didnt watch this show a lot BUT ITS ESSENTIAL FOR A SOUTH ASIAN CHILDHOOD OKAY? its super good and i LOVE the bheem toys
THIS IS THE END 4 NOW BUT SOME MENTIONS R; shiva(robot kid or wtver 🥱), bandbudh aur budbak!!
tags!! ; @so-lychee / @bambisnc , @riri4riize , @cjayius / @brachives
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Sab, what's your favourite fruit?
Mine's lychees. I can eat a whole kilo of lychees—I'm not joking. I'm a little too addicted to lychees. I just feel like with lychees, you can just eat more and more of them without getting tired.
omg i love lychees!! once at a restauraant bar, the bartender gave me and my friend a jar of lychee he was going to throw away (just because he had gotten a new can) and me and my friend ate allll those lychees :)
i think my favorite fruit would have to be mangoes!! i grew up eating mangoes a lot and i always love them. especially the not ripe sour ones -- i'll eat those with chili powder and salt - it's so good :)
#but honestly i love almost any fruit#i just don't really like apples or pears?#idk why#i think its the texture#i don't like having to bite so hard into something#this is so sweet of you to ask haha#sab [anons]#sab [asks]
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What’s going on behind the scenes between AJ and I?
In the dream, AJ and I were having a bath together but it was a swimming pool, but then sometimes a bath tub and sometimes there were other people there, other times not. We were naked but didn’t feel embarrassed at all. I felt my bare breasts out but this wasn’t even sexual in the slightest. In fact, we did not even notice our own nakedness. I felt very protective of him, like I need to look after him as if he was my child or little brother. When the bath was a swimming pool, I would float past him and wonder if he was ok because he wasn’t really moving around too much. He was on his back just staring at the ceiling. But then again, it felt like there was not much to do but just float. At the end, when the swimming pool was a bathtub, our bodies were lying side by side I went to drain the bathtub and it drained all the way down, but then he got upset because he wasn’t done yet having a bath. He wanted the water to come back, so I made it happen somehow. The water came back slowly, it came back through what looked like swimming pool gutters even though now it was only the size of a bath. I know that it was the same old water that we had been bathing in just before. The thing is, the water didn’t fill up all the way up again, it only reached around hip or torso height (couldn’t float like we were doing before) or so and it felt lukewarm and unclean. I found a fancy old-style glass bottle of scented bath salts sitting on the ledge, it only had a few granules left at the bottom so I put them in to make our skin feel nicer. And then I found on the ledge some Epsom salts and I put those in those too, a whole heap of it and and when the salts reached the bottom, I shook it around in the water around so it would dissolve. And then I demonstrated, so that he would do the same, I grabbed some with my hands and exfoliate my skin with it. I was doing rubbing the granules on my legs up and down and I could feel the pressure of it against my skin
A girl and I were walking home and in front of us a lady who was with some others gave us some little green peaches to eat, they were delicious. And then up ahead they threw a whole massive pile of fruit on a big rock that was on the side of the footpath. I was amazed I took some and ate it, it was delicious. They were lychees even though they didn’t quite look like them. I told the person I was with so excitedly I said 'omg it’s lychees!!!!' and I told them that those people had picked this fruit from somewhere close by out in the woods. An abundance of fruit. I presume they had picked way too many and dumped it there. I had a thought like why pick more than you need but I guess if they hadn’t I wouldn’t have had a chance to enjoy it too. I wanted to drop everything and go foraging too, since I knew this place in the forest was very nearby, but I didn't.
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Do you think any of the members of the gaang have hot takes on food?
when katara informs zuko that she simply cannot stand spicy food, zuko is like “you know, azula hates spicy food too. but she’d always eat the spiciest thing on the table anyway, just to prove a point.” and katara’s like “wow your sister’s dumb as hell” and zuko’s like “lol.......yeah.”
toph maintains that “rich people food tastes worse” and the best meal she ever had was a bunch of leftover dim sum she found in the garbage
aang’s really intent on repopularizing lychees after the war. he just thinks everyone should be eating more lychees, always
sokka’s “hot take” on food is that he has a teenage boy metabolism and if he does not shovel as much sustenance of any kind into his mouth hole as frequently as possible, he will get very cranky. fine...........crankier.
suki always carries fruits on her that are easy to peel and eat on the go, and whenever one of her warriors/friends/cranky boyfriend seems tired she immediately procures a snack, as if materialized out of thin air, at exactly the right time. it’s one of her superpowers
zuko will only drink tea if it’s been made by someone he loves. otherwise, he’s just drinking hot water with loose garbage in it, and what’s the point in that??
toph is actually the best tea-maker in the gaang. she understands the ritual, the artform, the waiting, the listening. as much as zuko tries, patience was never one of his virtues. sokka has tea-making down to a science, and katara pours love into every cup, but only toph’s tea could truly be mistaken for iroh’s. it’s a very slight difference, and only iroh can truly sense it, but he knows, and toph knows.
sokka is the first to notice that mai never actually eats. like, sure, she eats, but it’s always so slow and methodical that it seems more like a ritual, or a forced habit, than anything else. she takes a couple bites, and then she sets her food aside, mechanically, every time. but the thing about mai is, she loves food. especially “junk food,” desserts, bread, all the stuff she refuses to indulge in because whenever she tried to as a child her mother would scold her, ask her if she was trying to get fat, hmm?? sokka laments to toph and suki that they need to find a way to get mai to eat more, and so they’re always subtly inundating her with snacks, taking her out to eat, encouraging her to bake more. mai loves baking because it combines precision and artistry and eating desserts (she bakes with aang and suki a lot). eventually she starts feeling more comfortable around food. the voice in her head telling her that she’s taking up too much space is now replaced by suki peeling her a clementine.
azula would eat even more regimented and ritualistically than mai. she would only eat if she had performed perfectly than day, and when she did eat, she would single out rice by the grain. when zuko told jin that she had “quite an appetite for a girl,” it was simply because he had never known a single female human in his entire life to appear to enjoy the taste of food. part of azula’s recovery involves her learning to eat with her hands, with abandon.
whenever ty lee cooks for mai, she always tries to arrange whatever she’s made into a smiley face. and every time mai’s like “I can’t eat this. I’ll ruin your masterpiece” and ty lee’s like “if you don’t eat this whole thing so help me god I will be so hurt and offended I will have no other option but to divorce you.” and mai’s like “but we’re not married.” and ty lee’s like “DID I STUTTER!!!!!!” and then mai eats the whole thing in under a minute flat. they do this bit every time, and it never gets old.
aang and suki bond over being the only vegetarians in the gaang. after becoming a kyoshi warrior, suki manages to convince ty lee to join them. while they appreciate that katara and sokka could never actually be vegetarians, for they respect their cultural/regional diet and traditional/sacred hunting practices, toph, on the other hand, has no cultural attachment to meat, other than the fact that she simply loves steak.
when it comes to vegetarianism, zuko is torn because on one hand, the thought of killing animals horrifies him, but on the other hand, he grew up eating meat his whole life and he has no idea how to give up kebabs. yes, aang, he knows it used to be an animal, but now it’s just a lump! a very delicious lump! sokka’s like “oh so this means it’s a go on cooking the turtleducks?” and zuko knows that he’s only saying that to provoke him but. it works regardless.
katara always claims that she hates doing all the cooking, but also refuses to let anyone else try to cook when she has appointed herself head chef. she claims that the secret ingredient to making soup is waterbending, and no one else has the right touch. even aang, who is also a waterbender. sokka’s like “don’t bother arguing with her over this she has a whole complex over this and trying to unpack it would take way too long.” only like thirty years later does zuko admit that he’s always found her food....kind of bland. katara’s like “oh so now u wanna colonize my soup too, with your racist spices??? typical.”
katara hates papaya, but she dutifully ate one for breakfast anyway, because aunt wu told her to. having noticed this, aang assumed she liked papayas, and always makes sure to get some for her whenever the opportunity so arises. the gesture is so thoughtful that katara doesn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. she grows to like papaya.
#kiyokospeaks-moved#kiyokospeaks#asks#the gaang and#not tagging everyone lol#wow this got way longer than I thought it would be#eating disorder tw /#ed tw /#just in case#for mai & azula
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stay gold.
pairing. jjk x f!reader. rating. explicit. tags. blond!jk being a good boy? idk. that’s literally it. wc. 3k. beta reader. @hobi-gif, ofc. author note. this was meant to be pwp but i cannot shut up so here is this mess that is neither pwp nor something with a legit plotline. 🤠 blame blondie.
Having a content creator boyfriend is fun. Usually.
You get to go on cool trips, he gives you all of the random shit his sponsors send him, and you get to preen like a cat that ate the canary when his DMs blow up with hundreds of messages.
Sure, there are the downsides. All his stupid pranks - the ones that piss you off when you’re trying to do your makeup, the ones that have him dunking ice cubes on you while you’re in the middle of a shower - and his perpetual recording, camera glued to his hand and if not that, then his phone. There are the rude comments - the oh, that’s his girlfriend? He could do better was a common one - and the long hours he spends editing, holed away in his office; the beyond inappropriate packages he gets in the mail, thongs and other things that he immediately tosses away with a reassuring tilt of his pretty head.
You don’t mind it though. He enjoys it, thrives on it, and you’re there to support him.
But you’d never expected this.
This Adonis standing in the doorway, freshly styled strands pushed back from his forehead, glimmering gold falling across his eyes. He looks, for lack of a better word, unreal.
(You’re not often speechless. Can’t be, when you’re dating someone like Jeon Jungkook and everything he does either makes you laugh or infuriates you. Boring isn’t a part of his vocabulary and you’ve learnt to keep up with his antics over the years.)
(Still, this comes close, stealing all the air from your lungs.)
“Hey, baby.” It’s his usual greeting, offered without hesitation as he crosses the threshold and tosses his keys into the catch-all by the door. Kicks off his chunky sneakers and peels his sweater over his head, effectively tousling the tawny threads.
He’s so handsome it’s outright disgusting, leaving you gaping up at him from your post on the couch. Gives you very little to work with as he shimmies down the hall, grabs an apple off the kitchen island, and then not-so-gracefully plops himself down beside you.
You still haven’t found your words by the time he takes two gigantic bites, flesh crunching between his teeth, big doe eyes sparkling like he’s stepped right out of a Disney film.
“D’you like it?”
Did you? Well, obviously.
You’ve never imagined Jungkook blond. He’d gone through a phase in college, colours of the rainbow rotating through the ends of his hair. Brown, red, orange, blue. You’d loved each hue but this was something else entirely. (Different even from the two months he’d spent as full-on ginger, committing far too hard to his Haikyuu!! Halloween costume.)
This version of him is steeped in some twisted fantasy, a dream crafted by years of bedtime stories and happily ever afters. It screams Prince Charming and has you reaching for him before you know what you’re doing, threading fingers through the surprisingly soft silk that curls over his ears and looks so lovely next to the silver of his piercings.
You mean to be gentle, to comb delicately through flax but fuck. He looks so good you want to devour him. (You can only imagine your face - a lovesick puppy brought home from the pound.)
There’s still apple in his mouth, juice tracking down his chin because you’re really making it quite hard for him to chew when you’ve got him like this, two hands on either side of his face, holding him in place. Inspecting him like a piece of meat as he peers at you, deceptively innocent and amused. “That’s a yes?”
An answer comes in the form of a kiss, of limbs rearranging and settling directly into his lap. Knees wide, chest to chest, you can’t even be bothered by the sickly sticky feel of his skin, the way his hands are too cold to be creeping up beneath the hem of your - his - shirt.
(Where had he put the apple? You know it’s not finished, two bites in and left to roll all over the rug. You’ll give him shit for that later, when you’re not so distracted.)
“You look like Barbie,” you mumble against his lips, into the warmth of his mouth. You ignore the way he laughs, swallowing it down with a pass of your tongue and too much spit swapped, a string of saliva caught between you when you come up for air.
Somehow, you’re still lightheaded, all your thoughts framed into the familiar silhouette of the boy beneath you. Cherry red lips - your fault, from all your biting and teasing and the balm you’d applied earlier - and blond hair. Who would’ve known that was your weakness?
(Deep down, you know Jungkook as a whole is the issue. That it’s your stupid handsome boyfriend with his lopsided smile and bunny teeth, dimples and that scar on his cheek. This is just a new layer to be explored, another reason you love him added to the Jungkook Best Boy jar that sits front and centre in your mind’s eye.)
“Don’t say that,” he groans, equal parts reproach and affection, palms resting where they belong, nestled over your spine. Long fingers toy with the soft cotton of your thong, brushing over the seamless material with small repetitive motions.
You realise then his hands aren’t the only things heating up.
The two of you have an understanding, an abiding awareness of the boundaries of your relationship and the roles you take on. Best friend, occasional sucker for the sake of a TikTok, lover.
He knows how much you hate your dirty laundry being aired - does his very best to never post anything that might be misconstrued, ensures he only ever portrays you in a good light because the internet could be cruel. (Even if he argued with you in the quiet of your home, he’d keep you safe outside of the four walls.)
You know how he needs his quiet time but that sometimes, a night out was unavoidable, a part of his life he - and by extension you - couldn’t always say no to. (Even if you were achy and tired by midnight, glaring down at your phone as he made his rounds, exchanged contact details and rambled about shit that meant nothing.)
He’s learnt to make your eggs the way you love them: soft in the centre, covered with too much pepper. He never washes your clothes in hot water (not after The Great Sweater debacle) and he always makes sure not to use your special memory foam pillow.
You kiss him goodnight without fail and play with his hair until he falls asleep; you bury your face against his chest when he’s had a long day, signing your love with the felt-tip of your lips. You bring him fresh cut fruit when he’s been working for more than three hours and wash his hair when he’s stressed.
Knowing each other was easy; loving each other was like breathing.
This, though, is different. New. Special.
He’s never been like this before, glazed over in the eyes, patience wearing thin. Sat so well, picture perfect beneath you and cornsilk crown lighting his entire expression up like a halo, he’s ethereal.
“Baby,” he whines, grits through his teeth as you roll your hips that much slower, the glide impossibly smooth thanks to the lychee watermelon lube he’d received to his PO box. (One of the items you hadn’t thrown away from that package, together with a handful of other toys that’d come in handy over the months.)
You’re shameless, soothing a hand across his cheek, thumb slipping past his lips. (You ignore the noise of indignation, meet it with a twinkling laugh of your own.) It sweeps over his tongue, pressing down in tandem with the second sound - one that echoes out of his chest, a growl that pitches into a whine and makes your ears buzz. “Hi, baby.”
“Stop teasing.” It’s practically begging - or as close to it as Jungkook will get. It draws a smile and another pass of your thumb, gliding across his gums to slot against the interior of his cheek. You’ve got him fishhooked, immobile, even as he glares up at you.
(He’s so, so handsome. Looks utterly out of it even as he tries to harden his gaze, coerce you into doing what he wants with that stare that makes your heart lurch pathetically in your chest.)
“You don’t like this?”
You know he does - that he loves being pampered. That he’ll rarely ask, instead pouting at you from wherever he sits until you turn to putty under his gaze and smother him in all the love you have to offer.
“I do. I just—” The rest of his words don’t come, stolen by a gasp when you grind against him, swollen head of his cock bumping against your clit. He’s making a mess of you both, back arching, hips rising, hands fisted into the sheets even as he chases friction like a dog does its tail. The warmth between your legs is so close he looks as if he’ll lose his mind, rutting against your cunt like just the right angle might get him what he wants. “Fuck, baby.”
“I’m trying,” you retort, mouthful of teasing that only earns you another glare, some poor semblance of one as he bites into the webbing of your hand, bucks up impatiently.
“Please.” He tries again, a different tactic this time, all sugar-spun sweetness. Strawberry shortcake rather than sour cherry pie, so eager to get what he wants that he’s not above pulling out all the stops. A hand risen from the sheets, digits decorated in ink swimming over your skin, sinking into the meat of your thigh.
(He doesn’t push though. Knows you’ll pull the moment he does.)
“Please?” An echo chamber, endlessly teasing, and a ducked head, lips finding the sweat-slick column of his throat. Just one drag of your tongue has him crumbling further, careful composure slipping with each swivel of your hips, the edge of your teeth. There’s nothing but desperation radiating off him, demand choked back when you drift lower, tracing over his chest, teasing him in the ways you know best.
It’s all so unnecessary, drawing out what he wants until he’s a goner, three seconds from combusting beneath you. You’d give him anything he ever asked for - offer it all up on a silver plate, a meal fit for a king. This is just fun, different and exciting.
You relent with a minor adjustment, settling yourself against him, face dropped into the crook of his neck. “Slowly.”
He repeats after you, uncertain and hopeful; his hand falls further, warmth descending to pull you close, hold you still. As much as he needs this - needs you - he loves the slow burn just as much. The stutter of his pulse gives him away, erratic beneath your touch. He’s a thousand miles above the clouds, floating on cloud nine; every second passed is another tingle of his toes, a tightening of the coil in his stomach.
When he aligns himself against your core, pre-cum pearling over his tip, he does exactly as you’ve asked. Sinks into you at such a leisurely pace you wonder if you might be the one who splinters apart, shatters into a million tiny pieces at the way he splits you open.
“Good?” Jungkook asks so nicely it’s impossible for you to say no, to deny him this tiny bit of reassurance.
(Maybe it’s the way he looks, crowned in glittering gold, painted by Fra Angelico. Or maybe it’s how his smile spills like sunshine, a peachy pink horizon dragging over the apples of his cheeks, burnt red like their namesake.)
(Whatever it is, it’s everything you want, packed perfectly and pouting.)
“Good boy,” you purr, breath hitching once he’s sheathed to the hilt, seated so deeply within that you swear you can feel him in your throat.
You’ve never felt so full before - close to overflow, taunted and taxed by ridges and veins, each flex of his hips that drives him somehow further within your fluttering walls. So full you might burst, that you can’t possibly hold yourself together when he begins to move, fucking you tenderly, as if he can feel the weight of the moment.
There’s something happening. A shift in the air, in the axis of your planet that revolves around him. It falls on its side, spins wildly out of control, and you’re emotional. It’s not just his hair - that gilded crown he wears, heavy heavy heavy like aureate coin - or the impossible dark of his eyes - blown out, an entire galaxy devoured by the supermassive black hole that is his pupils. It’s the things you can’t see, the pieces beneath skin, soft and jammy, the tongue-tart sweetness.
(The thing with Jungkook is that he doesn’t let go, refuses to fully submit, always so careful to regulate his voice when things get to be too much. He’ll blink back his tears, stifle a sob, even as his breath disappears from nothing but a delicate brush of his chest.)
You take his vulnerability as a treasure, hold it close and craft a chest for its home, promise to keep it safe even while you're the one who poses the most danger. When it’s your teeth and tongue that eviscerates the soft of his flesh, makes him keen and gasp, heart pounding like hooves, beat imprinted against, under, into your palms.
When he begs you to move - manages the request in a broken articulation that makes you giggle - you give, swivel your hips in a figure eight, an infinity of motion that never ends.
You take all he has to offer and sing your praise into the wet of his mouth. Lick over teeth and gums and trade spit for love; know there’s only more where that came from, that the fountain begs to overflow as he finally - finally - breaks that much more, gripping your hips gentle as can be. Hands soothe up and down, an unspoken plea in how he thumbs your hip bones, taps hopefully over the small of your lower back.
He doesn’t need to speak for you to hear him.
It’s more than a kiss forming against your skin. It’s a confession of adoration, sealed by the frame of his mouth, cemented by the sting of his teeth. It’s I love you without saying it, plastering the pecks along your spine, placing them safely in all the spaces you’ve created for him.
It’s also an apology, because he’s just torn your castle to pieces, shattered your entire fantasy into smithereens.
He hadn’t expected you to react the way you had, rolling off him as if he hadn’t just been chasing the sweet bliss of release, splitting your walls and making you wail above him. It has him pouting, utilising the one thing that melts you down like candle wax.
“Baby,” he whines, reaching for you, needy and horny and so hard he imagines all the blood has rushed from his head straight to his cock. Everything spins when he moves with you, scrambles across the California king to paw at your hip.
He’d been so good for you - wasn’t that enough?
“Don’t,” you grumble, searing his insides with just one look. (It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.)
“But—” A plea punctuated by groping hands, eager as always, smoothing over the swell of your ass, flesh squeezing between knuckles. He’d normally let this go - fuck into his closed fist in the shower after he’s done something to cut playtime short - but he can’t help it now. He’s been on the edge for so long, lit up in neon that demands to be seen, heard, felt.
“Don’t dye it again.”
Oh?
That has him reeling, laughing, such a stupid grin across his face. It devours everything else, spearing dimples into place as he pulls you against him. You can feel his smile forming against your skin, the wet drag of his tongue as he sucks a welt into the sensitive spot of your shoulder.
“You wanna play with Barbie, baby?” It’s such a stupid line - utterly sophomoric and riddled with teasing and yet the delivery has you shivering in his arms, equally childish huff splitting your lips.
Jungkook doesn’t listen to you often - not about silly things like this - but he figures he can, just this once.
“I won’t,” he chirps, sneaking another kiss, stamping another smooch. It’s working exactly as he wants, stilling your protesting limbs as he cages you to him, slips his hand back where he most wants to be. The glide is perfect, a mixture of arousal and fruity lubricant; he slips a finger in without resistance, grinding his palm against your clit.
“R-really?” Of course you don’t believe him. He messes with you too often, plays too many pranks. (He deserves that.)
His promise comes too easy, driven by how nice you feel, how pretty you sound when he presses another digit in along the first. The scissor of his fingers is languid, exploring for the spots that make you breathless as he hums a noise of affirmation against your neck; he fucks you open as if he has to, as if you aren’t already dripping, eagerly sucking him in. “Really.”
“Put it in then, Ken doll.”
He laughs - and then he does. In bed, with your knee hooked over his, pace slow and sure and sinful. In the shower, bent over with his hands bruising your hips. In the kitchen for a late night snack, another apple in his mouth and your hands in his hair.
Maybe blonds did have more fun.
tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @codeinebelle
#magicshopnet#ficswithluv#thebtswritersclub#networkbangtan#heartsforbts#bts#bts au#bts imagine#bts drabble#bts oneshot#bts fluff#bts smut#bts jungkook#jeon jeongguk#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook au#jungkook imagine#jungkook drabble#jungkook fluff#jungkook sm#jungkook x oc#jungkook x reader#jungkook x namjoon#work.zip#drabble.zip#jungkook.doc
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30 day challenge #3
3 - Spooning for warmth
Tdiz zombie apocalypse AU, tw: zombie apocalypse, guns
“Do you think they’re gone?” Izuku whispered, crouched low beside Todoroki.
Todoroki moved slowly, gun in one hand, to look out of the dirty living room window. They were currently hidden away inside an old, abandoned apartment which was still full of family pictures and dusty furniture.
While waiting for Todoroki’s reply, Midoriya focused on the portrait he could see on the corner of the furniture he was leaning against. There were four happy faces looking back at him, all smiles. There was also blood on the corner of the glass portrait. He looked away, dreading to think what could have happened to the family that used to live here.
“It’s been a couple of hours now and I see no movement. I think they’re gone.”
They. Zombies. It’d been five months into the zombie apocalypse and Izuku still found it hard to believe it was happening at all.
“Let's rummage through their pantry and see if we find anything.”
They found some canned food to add to their supplies. Todoroki had been the one to find a can of lychees, a rare treat these days. He offered the whole can to Izuku with a kind smile, mentioning how much he knew Izuku must miss eating something sweet. Izuku gratefully accepted the can, and savored it like a starving man.
In return, Izuku found a packet of soba shoved at the very back of the pantry. He checked the expiration date and when he found it was on the safe side, he happily offered it to Todoroki.
“Are you sure? I can cook for both of us.”
“No, I think I’m full with my lychees already.” He smiled at Todoroki. “Please enjoy it yourself, You’re the one who said you missed eating cold soba the most.”
“Thank you, Midoriya. It always amazes me how kind you are.”
Sometimes, when Izuku stopped pretending he wasn’t lonely, and was terribly tempted to finally confess to his friend, he wondered if Todoroki could ever return his feelings. The look Todoroki gave him at that moment only added to his ever growing hope.
He looked away, well aware he was blushing. Todoroki had been a great roommate back in the old life because of how earnest he was. Now, in the middle of the apocalypse, it could be overwhelming.
“It’s the least I could do after the, uh,” he lifted the can still in his hand, his other hand automatically going to scratch the back of his growing hair. “So. Thank you.”
They fell into a comfortable silence while Todoroki cooked his dinner. Their guns lay on the kitchen counter, always close by. They were silent while they moved, Todoroki on the oven and Izuku idly looking into the cabinets, pocketing whatever might be useful later.
“Todoroki, look,” Midoriya called. When he had his attention, he lifted a pair of scissors. “How about that haircut?”
Todoroki lifted a hand to his own hair, fingers trailing where it lay at shoulder length. “I kind of like how it is, now. Do you want me to-”
“No, no, I like it a lot too.”
It was only after Midoriya interrupted Todoroki that he realized what he had said. He turned away and shoved the scissors deep in his bag pocket, hoping Todoroki had understood he meant he liked his own hair so long and not Todoroki’s.
God, there were many reasons a zombie apocalypse was a disaster. Running away and hiding with the man he had been in love with for the last couple of years took the cherry on top, though.
They didn’t talk much after that, used to having to be silent. Instead, when the food was ready they moved to the living room and sat on the couch as far away from the window as possible, guns at the ready and eyes at the door.
Midway through his food, Todoroki offered his soba to Izuku, sticks raised high and full. However, when Midoriya opened his mouth to deny it, he shoved the food in his mouth. Izuku pouted and ate slowly, grateful for the salty and savoury taste on his lips to counter the sweet, but even more grateful for the self-satisfied look Todoroki had. Fucking hell, Izuku loved him.
It didn’t take long for them to finish their food. Izuku went ahead to check any and all exits while Todoroki moved through his nightly hygiene routine and then they switched places, always double checking for their own safety. Once secure and clean, they moved to Izuku’s own favorite nightmare: bed time.
“Where’s your gun?” Todoroki asked, voice close and husky against Midoriya’s ear as he settled next to him on the ground. Because of past scares, they now lay below the bed instead of on top of it, laying all the bedding down to soften the floor where they cuddled close for warmth.
It had been desperation and cold that had made them first cuddle to sleep, but now Izuku pressing his back against Shouto’s chest was a part of their nightly routine too. Shouto’s arm below his head working as a pillow, his other arm encircling Izuku’s waist and grasping his hand onto his tightly. Among all of the things to worry about, Izuku was well aware that not being able to sleep in Shouto's arms or holding him was one of the things he feared the most.
“Right here.” He whispered back, grasping his gun with the hand that wasn’t intertwined with Todoroki’s. There was too much to protect. He couldn’t allow himself to jeopardize any of it. Them.
“Good. Goodnight, Midoriya.”
“Goodnight, Todoroki.”
That night, when Midoriya dreamt, he dreamt of their old house. The apartment is full of light streaming in, in a walking distance from their university. It smells of Todoroki’s old cologne and feels just as soft as the old sofa where they had spent countless hours watching movies and talking.
That night, when their dream versions kissed, it tasted like soba and lychees.
#this one is my fave one so far#and it was written for ems of course!!!#also happy 3rd of halloween#tododeku#todoizu#izushou#tddk fic#my stuff#30 day challenge#btw i was totally listening to early sunsets over monroeville when I wrote this lmao#as always please let me know what you think!
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58! With a certain King and a red fiery boi ;) Poor red boy deserves a better dad, in my opinion.
Oh yeah he definitely does. Warning: hints of past parental abuse, under read more for length only though.
“You don’t have to be afraid.”
“C’mon Red, you can’t keep running off like this!” Wukong shouted after the fire demon, jumping to land in front of him and cut off his exit back to his boat. “You’re worrying MK and Mei, hell you’re even worrying Pigsy! Do you want them to worry about you!?”
“Well that shouldn’t be happening because I can take care of myself,” the red head snapped, trying to push past the monkey to no avail. “Let me past!”
“No, not until you tell me what’s going on!” Wukong yelled, reaching for Red on his left when he should have reached for his right and letting him get an opening to rush past him. “Hey stop!” Red Son paid no mind to him. “I SAID STOP DAMN IT!”
He reached out, grabbing the back collar of Red Son’s jacket to stop him... and Red Son yelled before bringing his hands up to cover his face. No, that was not a response in anger. Not in confusion either. Wukong knew that yell from centuries ago too well.
Red Son was afraid.
Wukong wrenched his hand back in surprise, watching as Red Son flinched away. Flinched. That... was not the reaction he had expected. “Are y-”
“I’m fine!” Red Son snapped, turning away from him sideways and scrunching up his shoulders as it to protect himself from another grab from the Monkey King. “You-you just startled me.”
The two stood for a moment, Red Son gripping his jacket and Wukong could see his knuckles going while as his hands shook almost unnoticeably. Something was a lot more wrong than he had originally thought.
“... I’m sorry,” He said, holding up his hands to show Red that he wasn’t going to grab him again. “Please, just... sit down. Stay there, ok? We need to talk. Just talk.”
There was more silence and then Red Son nodded his head stiffly before sitting on the ground, head ducked and eyes hidden in his lightly sparking hair. Wukong gestured for one of his mountain monkey’s attention, giving it instructions before moving to sit beside Red, just within arm’s reach but far enough that they weren’t touching. He looked at him only out of the corner of his eye, pretending to pay more attention to the view of the far away ocean and Flaming Mountains instead. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s on your mind. It doesn’t have to be the whole answer, just start with anything.”
It took a moment. A long moment of silence, and if this had been the same time as the first day they met back when he was known as Red Boy he wouldn’t have had the patience to wait for him. But he had plenty of practice with that now.
“... I..” Red Son started, trailing off and groaning as he rubbed his hands together. “I just... need some time alone to think. That’s why I keep coming here without telling anyone. I wanted to be somewhere... somewhere mother and father wouldn’t look...”
Ah. So it was related to that. Wukong sat straighter, turning slightly so Red Son would know he had his attention.
“... I was never really scared of my father until... Until the White Bone Spirit,” Red began to explain. “He tried to kill me. Called me a-a traitor! And if my mother had not intervened...” He took in a shaky breath. “I can’t stop thinking about that. I’ve TRIED but every once in a while when I think I’m happy again I’ll just hear his voice and remember how it felt to be that close to being crushed by my own father... So I just come here. To walk in the flames. To hide in the caves. Just so I can forget for a while... It never lasts though so... I keep coming back.”
Wukong frowned, biting his lip and wondering what he should do or say before deciding to move closer. He paused with Red Son flinched again, holding up his hands. “You don’t have to be afraid,” he said softly. “Trust me. Please. MK trusts you and I promised him I’d do the same. Can you return that?”
More silence. Red Son tensed and for a split second he looked like he was going to bolt. But instead he nodded and Wukong took that as a que to slowly, very very slowly, wrap him in a careful hug and tuck the smaller demon’s head under his chin.
“You can come here any time you like, ok?” He whispered softly, feeling Red relax and start to shake. He felt the heat of his tears before he felt the steam hit his face. “Any time, no reason needed. Just promise me you’ll tell MK or Pigsy before you do.”
“O... Ok...” Red Son whimpered out, sounding for all the world like the most tired being on the planet as he leaned into the Monkey King completely.
“Ok,” Wukong repeated, letting the younger demon breath shakily and cry against his armor as he held him. Things had become so... so wrong, so backwards. He remembered how his parents fight tooth and nail for him, once upon a time, back when they needed the iron fan to continue their journey west. They loved their son. And now he was terrified of them. This wasn’t just from the White Bone Spirit. This was something that had been happening for a long time. What had happened in the centuries he had been gone when Red Son had rejoined his mother? What had she done to the boy?
Wukong... Wukong didn’t know if he could fix this. But he would damn well try.
Just as it seemed that Red Son had cried himself out the mountain monkey that Wukong sent off returned, a basket carried on it’s back.
“Ah, good, thank you little one,” Wukong pulled back from Red Son and did not miss how he initially tried to follow him so they would not break contact before pulling back himself. The Monkey King took the basket, carefully remembering to scratch the monkey behind the ears before it ran off, and set it beside them. “Here, you’re going to need something after that.” He reached in and pulled out a bottle of cold tea and a chilled bun.
Looking at the offered food for a second longer than the elder was comfortable with, Red Son eventually took them and ate a bite of the bun slowly and quietly. He hummed as he swallowed his first bite. “I... expected peach,” He said, smiling softly.
“You seemed like more of a lychee kinda guy.”
And Red Son nodded, seeming to realize the implication of Wukong keeping his favorite fruit on hand to make homemade treats with as he continued eating his lychee bun.
#*taps Red Son* this boy hold so much trauma#he holds too much trauma#someone take it away he deserves none of this#Rainy Talks AU#red son#monkey king#sun wukong#dad wukong#lego monkie kid#monkie kid#also i have come to the conclusion#that red son changed his name from red boy#prompt fill
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Fourth Coming
Fandom: The Wilds
Rating: T
Word Count: 2157
Summary:
And on the twenty-third day, Nora ate goat and thought about love.
Nora sees the experiment through two lenses, like the red and blue acetate in those cheap 3D glasses. One lens is the scientific, the other is the brutal. When she puts these metaphorical glasses on, she’s just there, in the middle of it, but when she’s feeling particularly tired (understandably often) or just relaxed (inexplicably often—a fact to be concealed from the others), she shifts between the two views. Each is sharper alone than they are combined.
Scientific: counting the days; subtly taking her own inventory of the rations; monitoring Fatin’s dehydration, the commensurate level of distrust the rest of the group have for her.
Brutal: cold fingers in wet, black sand, disinterring Jeanette’s grave; Dot’s tumbling, shivering recount of spearing and battering a snake; ralphing, ralphing, ralphing bad mussels.
It isn’t until the goat that these contrary perspectives finally attain a kind of beautiful balance in Nora’s brain. And it isn’t her thoughts, or rereading one of her journal entries, that has her mental clouds clearing. Actually, it’s what Leah says. About barbecues and normalcy and the Fourth of July. Leah’s remark—possibly offhand, certainly poisonous, even if Nora can’t see how yet—gracelessly and unselfconsciously reveals the barbarism of order. A social gathering on the same day each year, centered around fire (fireworks, sure, but Nora is amazed by how dazzled people are by something not so very far advanced from what had the cavepeople oohing and awwing) and the cooking of meat. Ritual is the summit at which the scientific and the brutal join hands.
The day doesn’t matter. (Every day could have been June 29th and what difference would that have made for them on this island?) The conditions of their environment haven’t changed. (No major shift in the seasons or significant weather patterns, just the single freakish high tide.) The slaughter of the goat and the subsequent cookout should be put down to chance, Nora knows. Toni, Martha, and Shelby decided to look for food. Martha happened to find the goat. She happened to lay her hands on a tool that could do the job. She happened to be successful. And now, miraculous barbecue in honour of… what?
Nora’s sure that most of the girls would say the feast is in honour of themselves, their power, their survival. All of that would really put a spit-shine on Gretchen’s mission statement, but Nora’s not just an agent, a plant, a spy, a wolf in castaway’s clothing. She seeks to understand as much as she always has. She wonders if Shelby thanks god for the goat, or eats it as a form of praise. Nora constantly spots her toying with the cross on her necklace, frequently in a way that holds it far from her throat, almost like she’s thinking about ripping the necklace off and hurling it into the ocean. That would be going a bit far, but then, so is hacking your hair off because a brush got stuck.
Their ritual could be the sacrifice of another creature in the hopes of sparing themselves—a kind of desperate, gasping celebration. Privately, Nora decides they’re celebrating love. Leah’s persistent aura of tragic romance is part of the inspiration for that, but she isn’t part of either of the two developing relationships Nora’s been observing.
Martha’s picking at her goat meat glumly, so Nora rises and goes over to her. Her gait is unsteady on this sand and on these legs, weakened over the past two days of starvation, but it’s enough to carry her until she can slump down next to Martha. Sweet and strong, vulnerable and clearly capable (judging by the sizzle of fat dripping from the roasting goat leg and hitting the fire), Martha smiles when Nora joins her. Nora smiles back and that’s enough between them for a few minutes.
Nora watches the browned meat, nearly allowing herself to be hypnotized by the texture that urges her to sink her teeth in, the crispy spots she knows would taste incredible. But she can’t gorge herself; her stomach needs to be cool about what she’s already eaten or the chewed up goat goes the way of the slurped mussels Rachel found.
Carefully, Nora turns her head to study Martha. She decides that what this girl needs is the same thing Leah needed on Day 12 when she was sitting alone on the beach: some kind of dirty joke. Since she’s fresh out of filthy material of the Christmas variety, Nora tells Martha, “One second,” and heaves herself up again. She comes back dragging Marcus. He’ll be her muse, but it’s also a reunion of lovers.
“You two could get married,” Nora tells Martha. “Shelby said she was an ordained youth minister, remember?”
They laugh and it’s softer than the crackle of the fire. Nora likes that. The steady, rolling sound of their laughs together. How they taper off, unlike the ceaseless noise of breaking waves that drives Nora insane whenever she surfaces from her numbness to the sound. Like becoming conscious of your breathing and working like hell to stop noticing it, because having to purposefully regulate every breath is exhausting and terrifying.
Martha frowns a little in consideration, then half-smiles.
“Nah. I don’t know if I’m ready to commit like that. I think this could just be a fling. All those abs and he didn’t come help me haul that goat.”
“That’s true.” When Martha gazes at the mannequin, Nora assesses Marcus as well. “And it’s not like you’d want to keep him around because he gives great head.”
“He might’ve once,” Martha defends, brushing hair out of her face when a breeze kicks up, “but he gave so much head that there’s none left for me.”
They catch each other staring at the clean line where Marcus’s neck ends and nothing rests above it and trip into laughter again. Though Nora feels like she accomplished her dirty joke, Martha made it even better. People have underestimated her. Nora’s noted it from the start. It’s probably because Martha was injured. Group dynamics were established quickly and have formed and reformed in the days and weeks since, but Day 1 showed them the rawest version of who they are together and, before they knew about Jeanette, Martha was the weak one. Have the others seen her role evolve like Nora has? Are Nora’s observations anything special, really?
“This is totally not a judgement thing or anything,” Nora says, meaning it. “I was just wondering if you were maybe going to wash your clothes. Or change them.”
“Oh.”
Martha looks down at herself and now Nora’s glad she said something; it doesn’t seem like Martha was really aware that she’s been sitting here crusted in drying blood. Nora weighs the acceptability of a period joke and decides against it.
“You don’t have to,” she assures Martha, raising a gentle hand. “It just seemed like maybe the, uh, the slaughtering process? Was kind of a mindfuck?”
“Yeah.” Martha stares straight ahead and lets out a short laugh that Nora doesn’t join her in. “I’m glad Marcus wasn’t there to see. He might not’ve come back the same.”
Nora peers at her a moment, then resolves to just say what she’s thinking.
“Did you?”
Turning her head, Martha looks at Nora and her smile’s the same, but her eyes are different. No, Nora would write in the journal. The answer is plain. Maybe she’ll record it on paper later and maybe she won’t. Looking into Martha’s eyes, Nora knows she won’t need help remembering this.
“I’m just living my best life,” Martha tells her, batting the ends of her hair with her hand.
It sounds like something Fatin would say in this moment, or at least have printed on a t-shirt or something—it’s flip and glib—and for the very reason that it reminds Nora of Fatin, she’s certain that Martha not only means the silly words sincerely but that she feels the kind of truth in the trope, the mindfulness in the meme, that Fatin fights so hard to experience herself. Fatin is deeper than that ocean over there and Martha is a girl scooping out the sand in front of her mannequin boyfriend, digging him a sturdy trench to rest in so she can lean back against his factory-sculpted physique, painted in the blood of her first kill.
For whatever reason, Marcus is the man Martha wants. Nora can’t imagine him becoming anyone else’s property after all this is over.
“Do you want a lychee instead?” she offers. Martha’s flat-out ignoring her leaf-plate of meat now.
“Maybe in a minute.”
She turns her dreamy eyes away from where she’s rubbing a streak of dirt off Marcus’s bicep. Nora follows her gaze to Shelby, who seems to be counting out and partitioning the lychee haul, looking to Dot from time to time. Dot isn’t interfering, just giving encouraging nods when Shelby seeks them out. And of course Toni’s watching too.
“You think they’re telling the truth?” Nora inquires bluntly. “That whole ‘wrong turn in the woods’ story?”
Martha shrugs and says, “Yeah,” but Fatin scootches towards them, evidently drawn by the hum of gossip in the air.
“Are you talking about Toni and Shelby?” she asks, but it’s more of a demand. Her eyes are bright and excited, her mouth grinning, and Nora knows that a lot of that effect is thanks to their first meal in days, but it astounds her how socializing lights Fatin up as much as it used to shut Nora down.
“No,” Martha says quickly, but no faster than Nora’s flat, “Yes.”
“Dope. Yeah, those two are a hundred percent lying.”
“Are you sure?” Nora asks.
She’s not, but the cameras will be. Seeing the footage afterwards isn’t something she negotiated on when Gretchen made her part of the team. Speculation, though less scientific, is much more fun.
Fatin rolls her eyes like Nora’s questioning the laws of gravity. (She blinks and sees the poster of Newton. Sees Newton seeing the apple. Her throat closes up until she softly coughs it clear.)
“Definitely,” Fatin says. “Even if they were just out there all day picking fruit, it’s still the most sapphic thing I’ve ever heard. It’s, like, biblically sapphic.”
Martha laughs.
“Uhhh, sorry, which version of the Bible did you read?”
Nora smiles broadly and looks from Martha’s expression of brimming joy to Fatin’s concentrated delight. Like she’s on to something and whether or not she’s right is beside the point. That kind of approach makes Nora pleasantly dizzy. She remembers being little, standing at a department store perfume counter she couldn’t see over while her mom spritzed scents on her wrists that floated down to Nora’s nose. Fruit and flowers and anything and everything that could make the air beautiful when a woman walked into a room.
“None, but come on, there’s the garden, right? I know some shit. The marketing for this retreat was super Christian-centric anyway. We’re out here representing the fucking Dawn of Eve!” Fatin gestures triumphantly around at their dismal (except for the goat) camp. “If those two bitches weren’t getting their freak on under a fruit tree last night, I’ll eat my gold watch.”
Nora scrutinizes the girls in question.
“Shelby does look especially glowy today.”
“Maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s chronic sun damage,” Martha singsongs.
“Maybe it’s what Toni did to those mussels with her tongue,” Fatin acknowledges frankly, “because Shelby sure as hell didn’t borrow my hundred-dollar highlighter. That shit got swept out to sea.”
Fatin trains her eyes on Shelby while Martha watches Toni, and Nora watches both of them watch the others. When they switch subjects in a moment of unvoiced agreement, Toni jerks her head up and spots Fatin staring at her. The tender gazes she’s been throwing Shelby’s way over the low mound of red fruit tighten into suspicion.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” Toni barks, and a laugh sputters from Fatin as she raises her hands to show she means no harm.
“Ok,” Martha says to Fatin and Nora, giggling. “I see it now. Something happened between Shelby and Toni yesterday. Some kind of hunter-gatherer romance.”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve taken the ‘hunter’ title away from Shelby,” Nora points out.
“Well, whatever. Gatherer-gatherer then.”
“With an island colony of all women, it was only a matter of time,” is Fatin’s pragmatic take. “Another couple weeks without an orgasm and I would’ve fucked Toni myself.”
“It wasn’t just time,” Martha scoffs, tipping her head to the side. “It’s love.”
“It’s both,” Nora says. She could prove it to them, flourish the statistics she’s been tracking in her journal. How those bald numbers lie there next to the drawings that spill to the edge of the page. She’s made bedfellows of data and emotions. She just sits there and grins at them. “It’s the aphrodisiacal influence of the Fourth of July.”
#my writing#The Wilds#Nora Reid#Martha Blackburn#Fatin Jadmani#Toni x Shelby#The Wilds fanfiction#The Wilds spoilers
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꧁𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞 𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨꧂
NOTE: these are made up but are influenced by previous headcanons i’ve seen before.
these headcanons are mainly my ideas so if you post about them please be sure to tag me!
also, you can follow my tiktok. it’s the same user as this one!
be sure to tell me what you think and comment who else i should do ☺︎︎
—
how he asked you out:
akaashi asked you out while you were both at the library studying for an exam the next day. you were in your favourite sweats, crocs, your hair wasn’t done. to put it plainly, you weren’t dressed up in anyway shape or form. you were a stressed out mess; constantly procrastinating and complaining. he of course, went out of his way to assure you that you were doing fine but it wasn’t working. he couldn’t help himself but laugh at you which ticked you off slightly; only making him laugh more. in that moment, akaashi realised that you were the one for him.
when he finally brought himself to pop the question after hours of studying, your tone completely flipped. you were a flustered mess because you felt the same way. ‘akaashi! why would you ask me now? it’s supposed to be a special moment!’ which is when he replied ‘but this is special because i’m with you right now’. you appreciated the sentiment but you still detested the idea of him asking you at that moment.
he promised he’d make up for the fact that he asked you out at such an inconvenient time for you but he said that it felt right in the moment. but he was over the moon when you said yes
your first date:
akaashi made sure your first date was going to be one for the books because he wanted to make up for the library fiasco.
it was early september, nearing the end of summer and akaashi wanted to savour the last days of this season. he asked you out to a picnic date where you promised to supply a beverage of choice while he handled the food.
upon arrival, akaashi greeted you with a hug that was pure and innocent.
he was carrying a picnic basket which stood out to you. it was very plain yet it was laced with a sage green ribbon and had a lavender plant intertwined in the straw. it was definitely akaashi’s style.
when you asked him about the picnic basket, he said it was his grandmothers. he told you the story about how she used it when she went on dates with his late grandfather. it was supposedly tradition for them to go on dates and use that very basket. ‘that’s such a beautiful story akaashi. i’m so sorry for your loss..’ he replied with ‘don’t worry about it y/n. perhaps we can carry out their legacy and make it our very own tradition’ . the sentiment was very sweet making your heart thump. you also yearned for a romance like theirs.
you both settled down at a spot under a very large weeping willow tree, secluded from everyone else. you brought out a checkered baby pink picnic blanket and set everything down. akaashi opened up the basket and revealed its contents. he had specially prepared bento boxes for the two of you and even packed additional snacks. it was perfect. when you asked him if he’d made the boxes himself, he smuggly said ‘yes i did’ with a fat smirk plastered on that pretty face of his. in that moment akaashi unveiled his self-approving side. the bento was delicious but you were too stubborn to admit it.
when he asked where the drinks you chose were, you pulled them out of your bag rapidly. you decided that ramune sodas were the most fitting for the date so you brought a whole variety with you. the flavours ranged from melon, lychee, strawberry and grape. ‘pick which ones you want!’ akaashi picked two; lychee and strawberry. he was clearly a man of taste.
after you both finished eating, he pulled out a deck of cards. it was only fitting for you both to burn off those calories by playing a competitive game of uno. ultimately, it wasn’t a very good idea considering you both were merciless when it came to any form of competition. even still, you were no match for him. he was the undisputed king at the game. he happened to be effortlessly good at everything; including uno! ‘y/n, i’ve never met someone as bad as you before!’ he made multiple remarks about how your technique was flawed and how you just weren’t good at playing the game at all. ‘oh shut up keiji! you’re clearly cheating!!’
after multiple rounds of uno; which ended with akaashi’s winning streak of 7, he pulled out two small canvases, an old book and a water paint pallet along with some glue. akaashi never admitted it but he loved painting in his spare time, along with reading old novels. so he decided to mesh the two things he loved the most: ‘okay, this is some old rinsed out book i had lying around, how about we use it to make something beautiful?’ he proposed that you both make small paintings of your surroundings while including sappy quotes from the romance novel. in the end, you’d both exchange your works and cherish them as keepsakes in loving memory of your first date.
when it was nearing towards the end of the date, the sun began to set radiating soft hues of orange and pink across the skyline. the view was a sight for sore eyes and as you both sat their admiring the sky, you noticed akaashi looking over at you, staring at you contently. you didn’t want to say anything so you just pretended like you didn’t notice but in reality you could feel your cheeks go bright red. you looked over at him and he gave you a reassuring smile.
as you both packed up your belongings, you were hesitant to leave. you really enjoyed your date and akaashi noticed that you didn’t want it to end. so as a cute gesture, he carved out your initials on the tree with the fork he’d used earlier that day. ‘akaashi.. what are you doing?’ you looked over at him, tilting your head slightly at an angle. he looked back at you and gave you a soft smile ‘marking our territory. this is going to become our tradition remember?’
akaashi escorted you out of the park walking with you; side by side. you two were very close to each other, on the verge of coming in contact. you walked together in silence and admired the views. that’s when you slowly felt his fingers reaching out for yours. you gazed back at him in confusion. ‘c-can i hold your hand?’ his voice was light and tranquil yet it was clear to you that he was nervous. you nodded in response. akaashi took you by the hand and led the way; interlocking his fingers with yours delicately.
akaashi’s love language:
akaashi isn’t big on the eccentric things in life. he’s never been one for big parties or going out to densely populated places. he’s very reserved and prefers to spend his time with you alone. you could be doing anything together but as long as you are within reach, he’s more than happy. some of your best memories together are in your livingroom, cuddled up watching romance animes.
he doesn’t say i love you very often but he truly loves you with all his heart. a way he communicates this love for you is by recommending books for you. he’s been a bookworm his entire life and his favourite thing to do after reading novel is giving it to you to read. on numerous occasions, he’d give you a book just for you to finish it within a couple of days. nothing warms his heart more than hearing that you enjoyed the book. he loved discussing ideas and debating beliefs after finishing the books. sometimes you have conflicting ideas which really expands his mind in a way he never thought anyone could.
another way he loves to show you he cares his by hand crafting you care packages whenever you’re feeling under the weather (whether that’s monthly due to mestruation, or when you’re feeling sad). akaashi’s other guilty pleasure is arts and crafts and over the years he’s gotten especially good at it. so another way he loves showcasing his love for you is by making you a basket filled with goodies when you’re feeling sad. he’d hand deliver them to your door like a gentleman and sometimes leave cute notes with them too. (all those romance novels have gotten to him clearly)
favourite memory together:
his first time saying ‘i love you’ was when you were both babysitting. you were babysitting bokuto’s nephew who was practically a mini bokuto who’d just discovered the skill of walking. he was running around, constantly knocking things over. this mini bokuto was a falling hazard on his own but he was a ray of sunshine just like his uncle. due to his wild mannerisms, you both made sure to baby proof the whole area to ensure his safety.
you left him to watch cartoons and you went to tend to akaashi in the kitchen. he’d hidden while you were both preparing dinner. this left you both in a state of confusion and worry. you were sure you didn’t see him leave the livingroom.‘come on little guy! you can’t stay hiding for ever!’ you called out. you scanned the whole house in search for the little munchkin, but nothing.
that’s when akaashi went to the kitchen and returned with a bowl filled with small fish shaped crackers. ‘oh, i see how it is, i guess i’ll have these crackers all to myself!’ he called out. that’s when the little smurf emerged from behind the couch with a bright smile plastered on his face. ‘BOO!!’ he called out. ‘there you are! you little bedbug! you’re getting good at hide and seek aren’t you?!’ you bopped his nose delicately and he giggled. you were relieved to see him. akaashi reached out to him and sat him next to him, while he snacked on the crackers.
the three of you ate together, played games and watched some more cartoons. bokuto 2.0 was very fond of you and insisted you cradled him to sleep. at this point it was getting late and he would’ve been very tired after a day filled with festivities. you yourself were exhausted and found yourself deep asleep. akaashi had just finished cleaning up and walked in on you both asleep on the arm chair. he admired your willpower when handling him and he grabbed the boys little owl ‘blankie’ and placed it above you both; cocooning you both in the fabric. he planted a small kiss on your forehead and that’s when he said he loved you. he was so overwhelmed with emotion and his mind trailed off; thinking of you two of you in the future, having a family of your own.
i hope you guys enjoyed these headcanons, it’s currently 3:35am and for me it was worth staying up late :)
i’m all for doing a second part or starting a new character but please tell me what you guys think of them!
#anime#haikyuu#haikyuu akaashi#akaashi headcanons#akaashi keiji#hq akaashi#headcanons#romance#couples#y/n x haikyuu#anime aesthetic#sports anime
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for the ask game 21(if ur comfortable w that) 30 and 36
hi i will just answer everything the whole list under a read more cut ^^
3. do you miss anyone? yes
4. what are you looking forward to? getting gender reassignment surgery hopefully by my 23rd bday
5. is there anyone who can always make you smile?bugleberyy :/
11. are you listening to music right now? listening to a jerma vod. .....
12. what is something you want right now? a perfect grade
13. how do you feel right now?i cant sleep iom doing this instead
15. personality description. im weird
16. have you ever wanted to tell someone something but you didn’t? almost came out. im never coming out btw
17. opinion on insecurities. get over it
21. age and birthday? july 13. im 16 rn haha i bet u thought i was older
25. role model 26. idol(s) jerma..... i wish i was lying but hes the only person ive ever respected my entire life. literally one of the guy on earth
29. favourite film(s) . the lighthouse
33. something you want to learn . deep sea fish i willl learn
36. 3 dreams you want to fulfill? help trans ppl. dissect a corpse. find a way to reassemble my deaad pets bones and bring him w me to wherever i live.
37. favourite actor/actress. willem dafoe
45. how you found out about your idol. from the fucked ub substitue teacxher clip on here. first.vod was his 11 hr seaman stream it was so enteratainign i didnt skip a second of it
49. where i want to be right now . on the beach at sanya
52. something i’m talented at. everything except whatever the hell jerma does ( being a performer and having a nice friendly personality)
53. 5 things that make me happy . catboy jerma. im indsnre. i just ate lychees. wine glass w fridge water. weairng shorts. having a bald head . birds chirping (!!!!), being able to finsih a book
54. something thats worrying me at the moment. i have an sat on saturday i need to get it to 1500 i cant im stuck at 1400 i wish somebody would cheat for me
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🌹
@space-feminist Posting a whole excerpt because I flout the law of gods and men:
[snippet from my role reversal AU, where the Northern Water Tribe attacked instead of the Fire Nation, and Sokka and Katara are basically...this universe’s Zuko and Azula]
The thing about hating your sibling is that, even as you’re plotting to betray them, you couldn’t help but fall back into old habits of loving them. Katara and him would never agree on a common goal or a set of priorities, but she was still his sister. Katara’s hands would always be the same ones that held Sokka’s own, when she took her first tottering steps in the world. She would always be the one who pranked him by slipping a polar eel in his bed, and he would always be the one whom she had sworn to secrecy, when she cut Dad’s best fishing pole in half in a waterbending accident. Even though Sokka was taller, he and Katara wore the same size boots. They made the same sound when they sneezed and they made the same vertical wrinkle in their brow when they frowned. Their eyes were exactly the same colour as one another: a murky greyish blue. Kya’s eyes, reflected twice.
He and his sister were each other’s reminder of their dead, beloved mother. They’ve never learned how to forgive the other one for it.
So in the morning, when Sokka came down to the kennel, he said nothing about last night’s argument. Katara held up a wrapped parcel of fried flatbreads – Sokka’s favourite – and he passed her a flask of warm lychee tea – her favourite – and they accepted each other’s offerings with a tight nod. They ate in silence, and after they checked to make sure Sokka’s lab equipment was secured tightly on the sledge, they set off for the spirit portal.
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Part 32! Western air temples part 4!
Kurt had eventually came back out but when he came back he was holding a large basket full of washed lychee nuts. He took a seat between Kahno and Haru and started eating the Lychee nuts occasionally offering one to either Haru or Kahno. Kahno only chuckled at the behavior, knowing full well what he was doing. Haru however was very tense until about five lychee nuts in. The trio just sat there eating the food for a good bit before any of them spoke, and the first one was Haru.
"I wasnt trying to kiss you y'know"
"I know"
"I was just trying to help you up"
"I know" Kurt then turned to him and held one of the lychee nuts up to Haru "just eat Haru, this is my truce offering. I dont normally share my food."
Haru hesitated but took the food and ate it. The three ate in silence for a good bit after that until Kurt let out a yawn and leaned into Kahno. "Do you know if Katara wants help cooking Dinner?"
"She may have mentioned wanting to make some lychee nut tarts but she didn't have the lychee nuts" Haru piped up
"Ooooh! I love lychee nut tarts" Kurt was practically bouncing in his seat
"I remember" Haru said with a smile "my mom still makes them y'know"
"Your mom's tarts are the best, I could eat a whole batch if she'd let me"
Haru laughed at that and Kahno smiled "I've never had a Lychee tarts"
"What!?" Haru and Kurt said in unison
After that they brought the Lychee nuts to Katara and demanded she make some tarts, which she wanted to do anyway so she was perfectly okay with making them.
By the time dinner rolled around the Lychee tarts were done, Kurt and Haru were excitedly waiting for Kahno to try his. "I dont normally have sweet foods so do get your hopes up, I might not like it" he sounded almost smug just before biting into it and his face maelting into an expression similar to falling in love, you know the face you make when you taste something avolutely DEVINE? Yeah thats the face. "Holy-"
"Good right? I dont know how long Katara's been making Lychee tarts but given how good these are now I can't wait to try them when shes been making them for the better part of a decade" Haru chimed happily
"I see you two made up" Teo piped into the conversion "i was hoping the drama might last a bit longer, but I'm glad I got tarts out of it"
#avatar the last airbender#avatar: the last airbender#prince zuko#zuko#atla zuko#atla sokka#sokka#atla oc#atla suki#suki#katara#atla katara#atla aang#avatar aang#aang#atla toph#toph beifong#AnkleBiterKurt#kyoshi zuko
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netflix and chill | (f)
Surprisingly, some people don’t understand some modern code words. Sadly, you were one of them.
Pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x reader
Rating: no rating! welp, if you don’t like swearing, then skip over them, or skip over the fic
Genre: Fluff, no smut
Warnings: a couple of swears?
Word count:1k+
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
Ever since Namjoon got into BTS, you both have changed- for the better?
To be honest, you were happy for him- of course, you were. Your long-term boyfriend had been training for God knows how long, and he finally achieved his goal. The members became his brothers, and he loved his fans with all his heart- possibly the only thing he hasn't broken.
There was always this pit in your stomach, though. His practices were frequent, recordings for their album became a priority; and soon, your apartment for two became an apartment for one.
Both of you kept in contact. His personality could cheer you up on any day, and vice versa. You still called him your boyfriend, and he still called you his girlfriend. You see each other every week, at least once, and you were okay with that- because you knew he was trying his best.
Then one week was skipped, after another. Not only was success becoming more frequent in Namjoon's life, but you had been accepted into your dream University.
Soon you both only exchanged texts and short calls.
You heard Namjoon choke on water through the phone, "Pardon me?" And the sound of glass breaking in the background.
People found it impossible, but somehow you had missed the meaning behind, 'Netflix and Chill'. It was practically everywhere in modern society: shirts, texts, phone calls, and the internet. To you, this saying was taken literally, and not as a sexual code.
"I said: 'Netflix and Chill'. How many times do I have to say it?" You huffed annoyingly. "I haven't seen you in so long. Just come over as soon as possible, okay?"
"Y-Yeah. Sure." He replied with a slight crack to his tone.
You rolled your eyes and yawned. "Anyways-- I'll see you later."
"See you~" Namjoon chimed before hanging up.
You stared at your phone for a few minutes.
What the hell is the matter with Joonie?
You shook your head and placed a bag of popcorn in the microwave.
.
.
You could feel the bursts of glances burn into your neck. Namjoon was clearly worried about something. He wasn't touching the popcorn on the coffee table, or the lychee drink you poured for the two of you. He was too busy biting his lip, twiddling his thumbs, or nervously glancing at the side of your face.
Before the silent war of anxious body language started, both of you decided on the movie “Kiki’s Delivery Service” from Ghibli Studios. You both liked the cute plot, and how aesthetically pleasing the scenery was.
Namjoon was chatty at first, answering all the question you asked about his band and whatnot. He even asked how your life was going, and how your studies were coming along. His deep tone made you feel like Jello- with comfort.
Now, that you guys were halfway through the movie, he seemed stiff. His arms were tightly placed on his thighs, and his chest stuck out- like he was overdoing his posture. He ran distressed hands through his brown hair.
He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. His eyes followed your every movement: the way you ate the popcorn, or how you giggled or commentated on the movie.
"Y/N--"
"Yes?" You turned your head expecting to hear the reason behind him calling your name. But all you felt were lips on yours.
Shock froze your body in place. Namjoon seemed to be too into the moment, from his lip moving against yours, and the hands grazing your thighs.
Is this what he wanted this whole time? Is this why he was so nervous? B-Because he wanted to--
"N-No." You placed your hands on his chest.
His lips hovered over yours. You could feel his eyelashes on your cheekbones. He slowly backed away without any words.
"Sorry." He mumbled with embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I- I don't think we're ready for this yet." You replied, looking at your lap.
You threw your hands over your face. Your cheeks burned as the silence stretched on.
"Do you know what, 'Netflix and Chill' mean?" Namjoon tried to look between your fingers, scanning your face.
"To hang out and watch Netflix?" His jaw was practically on the ground by the end of your sentence. He cleared his throat and closed his mouth.
"Ah, fuck." Namjoon rubbed his temples, "What am I going to do with you?"
"What does it mean?" You looked worriedly into his eyes, fear growing inside you.
This wasn't the first time you have used this phrase. You've asked your friends and family this question at least once, before. Why didn't you catch it? Their awkward chuckles, and hesitant replies. What made this saying so unique, that it made people feel uncomfortable?
"To put it out bluntly--" Namjoon pressed his index fingers onto his lips, "It's a code to make out, or have sex."
You leaped away from him, "WHAT!"
"You know... Have the tv on... Block the noises of--"
"I get it!" You covered his mouth before he could continue any further.
You replayed all the encounters, using this phrase. You shook your head in disbelief.
"It's not that bad." He gave you an unreliable grin, shrugging.
"I'm fucked! You don't know how many people I have said that too!" You rested a hand on your forehead. "That's why Yoongi ignored me for two months."
Namjoon laughed.
Yes, it was funny. Ha, it was hilarious.
"What about we forget this ever happened. We can finish this amazing movie," He put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest, "and then we can transfer you into a different school."
"Joonie!"
"I'm just saying..." Namjoon pouted, leaning his head onto yours.
#rm#bts rm#bts namjoon#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#rm fanfic#namjoon fanfic#rm scenario#rm imagine#rm smut#namjoon scenarios#namjoon smut#namjoon imagine#kim namjun#kim namjoon#kim namjun smut#kim namjun scenario#bts smut#namjoon boyfriend material#bts boyfriend#namjoon boyfriend#ficswithluv
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Click, Click
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4 , 5 , 6 , 7, 8 , 9 , 10 , 11, 12
Chapter Thirteen:
You had an inkling of a feeling that whoever was serving your table, knew who Jihoon was.
You knew it wasn’t likely, but he kept being really weird. Smiling too widely, his hand lingering on the table for too long, him lingering near you two for what felt like an eternity... You tried your best to ignore it, as Jihoon was really paying no attention to the waiter whatsoever.
“What are you going to order?” Jihoon asked you softly. You startled slightly when he spoke and looked away from the waiter. An action that JIhoon seemed to notice. He pressed his lips together but didn’t comment at all so you had no clue what he was thinking.
“Uhm, I don’t know,” you admitted. “I’m really not that hungry.”
Jihoon rolled his eyes.
“Okay, I’ll order for you then, but you have to eat everything I order,” Jihoon apprehended. You leaned forward on your elbows and let your head fall slightly to the side as you watched him look at the menu. He seemed so determined to get you to eat. His fingers tightly held the menu still as his eyes flickered from each and every corner of the menu.
A single glance at your own menu and you recognized that the whole thing was in Japanese. You weren’t exactly sure how good he was at Japanese, but you figured he wasn’t good enough to be able to do much but look at the pictures to figure out what was what. It was kind of cute to watch as his eyebrows moved with each item. The way he would wrinkle his nose whenever he read a certain thing but got confused by what exactly it read.
He glanced up at you over the menu, a disgruntled look falling over his face as he caught you staring.
“What?”
You raised your eyebrows.
“Oh, nothing, nothing. Just watching you is all,” you mumbled. You let your eyes drift down to the table. “Honestly, for a second I forgot you could see me. I’m so used to watching videos of you online…”
Your eyes widened and you looked back up at him.
“Not that I watch videos of you online and just stare at you!” You blurted. “I mean, that’s kind of creepy a-and-”
You were interrupted by Jihoon laughing softly. You shot him a glare for laughing at you, which made him hide his face behind his menu once again.
“If there were videos of you I could watch online, then I would probably do the same thing,” he mumbled. A short smile crossed your lips and you looked away from him, your eyes trailing across the restaurant again.
You found the waiter from before was staring at Jihoon, eagerly whispering to one of his coworkers. Your eyebrows furrowed as you made an attempt to hear what they were talking about, but they were too far away and the music in the restaurant was too loud…
“What are you looking at now?” Jihoon asked, his gaze following yours for a second. You looked away from the waiter.
“Oh! Nothing, really. So, how has Japan been?” You said, redirecting the conversation. Jihoon set down his menu and rolled his head to the side.
“Same as always. Just concerts and exploring if we have the free time,” Jihoon said offhandedly. “What about you? It’s your first time in Japan after all.”
“I haven’t gotten out much. The most I’ve seen of the city is… Well, everything I’ve done today,” you admitted. “I think we are doing some activities tomorrow with my class…”
“What? You’ve had all week to explore the city on your own,” Jihoon exclaimed. You waved off his surprise.
“I was busy,” you insisted.
Busy being of course only half the reason you hadn’t gone out. Quite honestly, everyone expecting so much out of you for the stupid busking event had made you feel like you couldn’t have any fun when you still hadn’t all performed yet. So no matter how often you got asked to hang out, you had told people that you couldn’t even if you had the time. Sure it was your first time in Japan and you shouldn’t let unnecessary pressures ruin that but... You knew you would hate yourself more for going out then you would for not.
Jihoon rolled his eyes.
“It’s your first time in Japan. We are going to do something really cool,” he insisted. He called the waiter over, who’s eyes wouldn’t leave Jihoon as he spoke. “Can we please have the Takoyaki, Okonomiyaki, and Ikayaki. And two bottles of Ramune, Lychee and Matcha flavor.”
The waiter nodded and picked up the menus, saying he would bring it all right out, but Jihoon wasn’t even listening anymore. He had his phone out and was typing in some things. The waiter lingered behind Jihoon, his eyes on the phone as he stood there. His eyes flickered up to you after a moment, and once the waiter realized you were staring he made a face and shyly ducked away.
“Right now we are in Dotonbori, but you have to see Osaka Castle, and Expo Park of course,” Jihoon stated. “We can ride a bus to the castle, and it’s only thirty minutes away. Then we’ll catch the bus, and the monorail and go to Expo Park!”
“Do we have time for all of that?” You asked, your eyebrows raising in surprise. He scoffed and waved his hand through the air.
“Of course,” he assured. “We have all the time in the world when we are around one another.”
Your eyebrows raised and a large teasing smile spread across your lips at those words. He looked at you, his cheeks tinging pink.
“I was just…” He trailed off. “Trying out lyrics for my new song. Too cheesy?”
You giggled into your hand.
“No, no, I wouldn’t say so,” you responded. The waiter brought out your food and beverages… He set all of the food in front of Jihoon. Geez, that was fast and you began to pick at the food Jihoon had ordered in front of you. “What exactly is this?”
“Osaka delicacies,” Jihoon replied. He picked up a ball that was on a plate with his chopsticks and held it up in front of your mouth. His eyes were lit with excitement. “Open up.”
You obediently opened your mouth and he plopped the fried dough into it. It was really good. A slightly crispy shell with a chewy inside.
“Octopus balls,” Jihoon said. Then he picked up one of the items on the plates… It looked like a pancake. A very odd pancake. He took a piece of it and put it into your mouth as you went to speak. “Squid pancakes.”
You made a face at him for all the force-feeding that he was doing but obediently chewed the food. It was a little saltier, and chewier then he had imagined it would be. Once you had swallowed Jihoon put another completely different piece of food into his mouth. He used the same chopsticks. It made a short smile cross your lips.
You really enjoyed sharing things with people. Drinks, food, all of the above. It was something weird that just felt kind of intimate to you. Ever since your later years in high school, you had grown accustomed to sharing things with your friends, and it was weird to you now if people weren’t comfortable sharing a straw with you. So seeing Jihoon so comfortably sharing utensils and food with you…
You were surprised. You had always thought he wouldn’t like doing that sort of thing.
Then again, the two of you had kissed before. It was kind of presumptuous to think that someone would be willing to kiss you but wouldn’t be willing to share food with you.
You wanted to mention something to him about that. Or the food, or anything really, but you couldn’t when he was force-feeding you every time you opened your mouth… Luckily the food was really good. He made you eat half of everything he had ordered, and he ate the other half himself, not leaving even the smallest crumb on the plate. Then he smiled and got to his feet.
“I’ll pay and we can go to the bus,” he suggested. He started to head over to the waiter but… There was something about the expression on the man's face that made you not want Jihoon to go anywhere near him.
You were probably just being crazy... Or maybe even being a bit possessive. Since you had met him, you hadn’t really had to share his attention all that much, and even now he was all focused on you. But the waiter treating him like some sort of... Untouchable... It just bothered you. At least most carat’s still treated him with some sense of familiarity.
“How about I pay! You ordered, we both ate. I’ll pay for dinner, and you can pay for whatever we do next or… Dinner next time,” you suggested. He squinted his eyes skeptically at you.
“What kind of…” He trailed off hesitantly and then nodded slowly. “Okay… Alright, just…”
He trailed off momentarily, which made you pause in your hurry to make sure that waiter didn’t get to see him again.
“What?” You asked softly. He looked away from you.
“Why… Why are you so obsessed with the waiter?” He asked.
At first, you were surprised he had noticed your attention to the waiter. You didn’t think there was any reason for him to be concerned with how you were acting... You had just been watching him almost the entire time you had been...
Oh, no way.
He wasn’t... He wasn’t jealous... Was he?
You hid a small smile behind your hand.
“I think he recognizes you,” you replied. “I just want to make sure he doesn’t do anything weird. Meet me outside?”
Jihoon visibly relaxed.
“Oh.”
He glanced to the waiter who had been staring at him once again, and then glanced back at you.
“I mean, he is pretty attractive,” Jihoon said. His face scrunched as he spoke. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if you were interested in him.”
You snickered.
“Please, he’s not nearly as attractive as you.”
Jihoon laughed and rolled his eyes.
“I’ll wait for you outside,” he assured, and then with a short wave over his shoulder, he walked out of the front door.
It was nice to see that he trusted you. It wasn’t that you weren’t used to people trusting you, because truth be told you had never really met anyone who didn’t trust you. If you promised to keep a secret, people trusted you to do so. If you said that you would get something done for someone, they trusted you to do so. If you said you were happy people just assumed you were.
You had figured that Jihoon wouldn’t really trust you on this one considering the fact that he knew how you liked to lie about your own intentions and mental state but you supposed this just proved that he really was someone special in your life. He knew you. He knew when you were lying, and he knew when to trust you...
You couldn’t help the large smile that spread across your face as you spoke to the waiter, so you made sure to talk all about your lovely boyfriend, Min Chaewon, in order to throw off whatever the waiter was thinking. Then to really set the lie, you mentioned how he looked just like an idol, and let it pass that maybe you were a bit of a Koreaboo, before returning outside to Jihoon.
He raised an eyebrow at you.
“Smiled pretty big in there,” he teased lightly. You rolled your eyes at him and smacked his shoulder.
“Not as much as I smile with you big boy,” you replied, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. “Now, where is this bus you keep talking about?”
-
The city of Osaka was beautiful.
Everything that you saw while there was absolutely beautiful. The trees seemed greener, the buildings taller and shinier. The lights seemed to shine even more brightly. You were entranced by everything that you saw.
There were moments where you thought maybe you hadn’t seen anything this beautiful.
You thought maybe it was more beautiful because you were getting to see it with Jihoon.
He had you sit by the window, as to avoid any fans seeing him, but he was practically in the window anyway with how often he would point at the scenery outside the bus to show you places he had been before.
You thought maybe he was more excited to show you the city then you were to even see it.
You hardly ever saw him this animated either. You knew he got that way. Every once in a while in a video you would see him get this energetic, but you were so used to him mainly keeping to himself, that you were always a little surprised when he wasn’t.
He all but dragged you off of the bus, first taking you to the Shrine outside of the castle, and then taking you to the castle itself. He kept making you pose for pictures in front of the different landmarks he took you to. Then you took some for him, and then you two took some of each other together.
It was so pretty.
The trees, the castle, the bridge overlooking the water… Being there with him.
When you two were on top of the bridge in the shadow of the castle you took a second to bend down over the railing and look at the water. As you did, Jihoon came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Well, you know what they say about the Osaka Castle bridge,” he said pleasantly. You turned around so that you could face him. You could still smell the Kushi Katsu on his breath from earlier, the fried dough from the skewers on the street right after you two got off the bus kind of making him more appealing to be close to, but also less appealing to be around all at the same time.
“Actually I don’t, why don’t you enlighten me oh senpai,” you replied teasingly.
“They say that people who kiss on this bridge stay together for a really long time,” he mumbled. His eyes flickered down to your lips, which made your cheeks redden. You didn’t respond at first, the implication was obvious after all. You leaned forward and tentatively pressed your lips to his, kissing him for a brief moment.
It was still a strange feeling, kissing him.
It was confusing to feel your lips touch his, to taste what he tasted like, to be so close to him that you momentarily forgot how to breathe... You hadn’t been sure before exactly how much you liked kissing him, but when you two had been away from each other you had spent nights awake in your bed, missing the feeling of his lips on yours. When you eventually pulled away, you looked away from him shyly.
“Of course, that only really applies to couples I’m sure,” you mumbled. Jihoon laughed, still staring at you fondly.
“Yeah, only couples.”
You pulled out of his arms and pointed.
“Next bus is in ten minutes,” you said excitedly. You offered him your hand, which he took happily.
The trip from Osaka Castle to Expo Park was a lot longer than the one they had taken before. First, there was a long bus ride, and then a long monorail ride through the city and over the river. It was a whole hour-long trip.
You had always liked riding public transit. It was one of your must-do’s on lists whenever you went on any vacation. After all, on public transit systems, you saw the most people and really got to know the city the way local people tended to see it. Besides, you liked the way that trains and buses tended to move. Lurching back and forth unexpectedly, making their passengers jostle with every movement. You had ridden so many buses by now, most of the time you didn’t even have to hold a railing to stand without falling.
You loved the way that time tended to pass when riding the public transit and being there with Jihoon helped make the hour-long ride feel like it only took five minutes.
As the monorail pulled into the station, you were so excited you got out of your seat, completely abandoning the conversation that you and Jihoon had previously been having.
“Is that a Ferris wheel?” You asked excitedly, watching the giant metal machine light up in the night sky. “Can we go on it?”
Jihoon went to stand up, and that was when the monorail began to stop. He stumbled forward, which made you rush across the train to catch him. You did just before he fell to the ground. He looked up at you, a sheepish smile spread over his face.
“Did you say something about a Ferris wheel?” He asked. You laughed and nodded practically bouncing as the doors to the train slid open. You rushed through the station, dragging Jihoon along with you. He nearly tripped over his feet as you pulled him towards the Ferris wheel.
You had never been able to pinpoint exactly why but you loved Ferris wheels. No amount of riding them seemed to sate that either. At some point, you had spent hours and hours every day keeping track of the biggest Ferris wheels in the world. You had fantasized about visiting every one of them, and if asked could tell people which cities had the most impressive ones.
Those days were mostly behind you, but something childish inside of you still popped up when you saw the colorful carnival lights dancing across the spokes of a Ferris Wheel.
You were so excited in fact that you almost forgot to let him pay for the tickets to get on the Ferris wheel… Not that that mattered once you were inside the Ferris wheel going up. Almost the entire cart was made of glass, which was admittedly terrifying, but you were too excited to think about it too much. Instead, you pressed your face against the glass, looking over the city of Osaka with a huge smile spread across your face.
“Jihoon look! Isn’t that where we were earlier?” You asked excitedly, pointing at some bright city lights. He didn’t respond so you looked back at him in surprise, to find him staring at you. He smiled.
“You know, when you’re happy you act just like a little kid,” he said softly. You chuckled.
“I may act like one, but at least I don’t look like one,” you quipped right back. He hummed.
“Does that make you a pedophile? You’re the one always kissing someone who ‘looks like a little kid’,” he said right back pleasantly. You stuck your tongue out at him, which made him tilt his head to the side. “Speaking of, you know what they say about kissing in Ferris wheels.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“Let me guess, it’s good luck for the happy couple?” You responded.
“Only if you do it at the very peak,” he responded.
You laughed, starting to think that maybe he was making up all of these kissing rumors, but before you could state just that he took your hand and pulled you close to him. He pressed his lips to yours again, deepening the kiss before you pulled away to breathe.
“Suddenly, I’m not so interested in the Ferris wheel,” you mumbled.
“Hope you get interested again,” Jihoon said pleasantly. “We have two more stops on our tour.”
“Oh?” You replied. “Never thought that I would be up until all hours of the night with a boy in a strange city.”
“You’ve never done this before?” Jihoon asked. You were a little surprised to hear him say that because he sounded a little genuine. You chuckled.
“No, never really trusted a guy enough to go out with him,” you said with a laugh. “Especially not this late. It’s almost midnight.”
“The perfect time to be exploring a city,” Jihoon responded. “But… I should admit that I am a little relieved to hear that I’m a first too.”
Your lips twitched upwards.
“Well… Yeah. My first real kiss, my first celebrity crush, my first…” You trailed off, not wanting to say anything that might expose your feelings a little too much. You just chuckled to yourself. “Let’s just say you’re a lot of my firsts.”
Jihoon’s face reddened at that.
You were so entranced by the expression… You had the power to do that to him… To make his cheeks turn red. You had seen him do it so many times now, and it was one of the most precious things that you had seen in your life. You reached forward, touching Jihoon’s warm cheeks, which just made them burn even more.
“What are you doing?” He asked, his voice actually shaking a little.
“Just appreciating this moment,” you replied. “In a Ferris wheel, in Osaka, with you.”
“Now who’s being cheesy?” Jihoon teased. “Anyways, we aren’t done yet.”
The doors to the Ferris wheel rolled open and he grabbed your hand, pulling you out.
He took you to this huge statue thing with a big stone face on it, called… Tower of the Sun? It honestly didn’t really matter what it was called. It was tall, it was cool, and Jihoon was so excited to show you. He dragged you around the giant statue, and then he dragged you around to a beautiful park located not far from it. You two sat down in front of the huge pond and fell silent as you watched the water lap on the shore.
You moved forward, kneeling before the cool water, trying to see if you could catch sight of any Koi fish. After a few moments, Jihoon joined you.
“You know what they say about kissing in front of a koi pond?” Jihoon asked you. You giggled.
“If I didn’t know any better I would say that you were making up these kissing legends,” you accused. His eyes widened, his expression showing genuine surprise.
“You would really accuse me? Your Japan tour guide and Japanese expert, of lying about sacred kissing traditions?” He asked. You smiled and pressed your lips to Jihoon’s, allowing him to kiss you again. Your hand laid gently on his cheek so that you could feel its warmth and when you pulled away you rested your forehead on his, smiling brightly.
You had always wanted to kiss someone and then rest your foreheads together, and it was just as intimate as you had always imagined it to be.
God, you might actually be in love with Jihoon.
“Oh no, I know you’re making up the kissing traditions,” you responded softly. “But it’s okay because it’s cute to know that you want to kiss me so much that you need to make up little excuses to do so.”
Jihoon’s face burned again against the palm of your hand, which made you laugh softly.
“You know you don’t need excuses to kiss me.”
“It’s kind of weird for friends to kiss each other,” Jihoon mumbled. Even as he said it, he pecked you briefly on the lips. “Besides, who said that I even like kissing you all the time?”
He gave you another peck. It made you smile.
“Oh no, you clearly hate it,” you responded. He laughed and rested his head on your shoulder, looking over the water.
“I had a good time tonight,” he mumbled. You smiled and lolled your head against his.
“I did too.”
You two fell silent as you looked over the water.
It got you thinking.
This time about stuff that was more… Good, then bad.
Your thoughts tended to turn negative pretty quickly… You felt like you didn’t really have to spell that one out. Your own negative thoughts were always preventing you from doing anything risky. Really living your life as well as you really could.
You were happy with Jihoon.
You didn’t know why he made you so happy, but he did. He made you… So unbelievably happy and judging by the way that Jihoon was resting on you… You made him happy too.
Normally you wouldn’t dream of telling him but… In this instance, you were feeling… Oddly brave. Safe.
That’s what you were with Jihoon. Safe and brave.
“Hey, Jihoon… I think I might be really, really falling in love with you,” you whispered, your voice so soft that you could barely hear it. He didn’t respond, so you looked over at him, surprised to find that he had fallen asleep. You chuckled and watched him for a moment. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed against your body, and you watched happily as his eyelids fluttered gently.
You took in a deep breath.
“Scratch that Jihoon,” you mumbled. “I am totally and completely in love with you.”
You let your own eyelids flutter shut as you sat there, figuring a short nap wouldn’t hurt anyone. Just as you were dozing off, you could’ve sworn that you felt him shift beside you.
“I love you too, y/n.”
But you wrote it off as you fell asleep beside him, as just another aspect of your definitely overactive imagination.
Chapter Fourteen
#Click Click by leejihoonownsmyheart#THIS CHAPTER WAS HELLA FUN TO WRITE#I GOT SO EXCITED WRITING THIS OUT#I FELT LIKE I WAS PLANNING A DATE IN JAPAN WITH SOMEONE#NOW I REALLY WANT TO GO TO OSAKA#Seventeen#seventeen kpop#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fanfiction#Svt#svt woozi#svt fanfic#svt kpop#svt lee jihoon#osaka#woozi#woozi imagines
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