#Highlight fluff

[blu-joons]

When He’s Scared That You’ll Leave Him ~ Highlight Reaction

Doojoon:

Your smile was weak as Doojoon finally returned home, much later than you expected him to. An apology came from Doojoon straight away as he sat down beside you, looking at you in panic that you were still awake.

Your hand rested against Doojoon’s thigh as he took a seat down beside you, “why are you looking at me like that? Have I done something wrong?”

“You’re too good,” he commented.

“Me?” You laughed, pointing at yourself. “Where’s that suddenly come from?” You asked, unaware of how guilty Doojoon felt for making you wait for him to arrive.

His smile matched your own as Doojoon spoke, “how do you keep doing this? I’m always late, or not around, it’s not how I should be.”

“You’re busy with work, you know I understand that.”

“Does your patience not run out though?” Doojoon enquired, “do you ever just want to tell me to go away when I keep cancelling on you.”

“Not at all,” you laughed, nudging against his side. “It’s all part of the job of dating you, I’ve kind of got used to it now anyway.”

Doojoon’s eyes narrowed in your direction, “how can you ever get used to being messed around by me as much as this?”

“I guess you just make it worthwhile.”

Yoseob:

As you began the drive home, you couldn’t help but notice that Yoseob wasn’t quite himself. When you pushed him on it, you got nothing, but eventually he began to explain what had upset him through the night.

You smiled sympathetically as Yoseob worried about the attention you got from some of your colleagues. “You’re not jealous of them, are you?”

“It’s not that,” he responded.

“You think they paid much attention to me?” You then suggested, watching as Yoseob’s head nodded. “Don’t tell me you think that they had my attention, please.”

Yoseob’s nervous stare met your own, “they were all so funny and good looking, even I wouldn’t blame you if you dated one of them Y/N.”

“But you’re the one that I’m dating, none of them.”

“I know,” Yoseob whispered, turning to glance out of the window. “I guess they just made me feel a little insecure, like I’m not good enough.”

“That’s nonsense,” you replied, quickly shutting Yoseob down, “I mean they’re nice colleagues, but they can be so irritating Yoseob.”

A faint chuckle came from him as you reassured him, “you’re really telling me that you like me more than all of them?”

“Of course, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

Gikwang:

Your eyes widened in surprise as Gikwang mumbled underneath his breath, concerned that he was taking the stress that he was experiencing at work out on you, fearing how much longer you’d tolerate it.

Your head shook as Gikwang finished, clearing your throat straight away. “Are you kidding me? I want to help you, not get annoyed with you Gikwang.”

“Aren’t I annoying?” He quizzed.

“We all get stressed, it would never give me a reason to leave you,” you chuckled, draping your arm across his shoulders, “you need to talk to me, not worry about me.”

Gikwang’s concerned eyes glanced to where you were beside him, “you’ve taken care of me constantly, doesn’t it start to drive you up the wall?”

“Not when it’s the person you love who needs help.”

“Thank you,” Gikwang whispered, resting his head against the side of yours. “I don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes here with me.”

“Just promise me one thing,” you asked of him, “stop thinking that I’m going to leave, because I’m not, I’m just going to keep supporting you.”

Gikwang nodded as he made his promise to you, “if I start annoying you though, you have to tell me too Y/N.”

“I’ll never get annoyed with you, don’t worry.”

Dongwoon: 

It was understandably hectic as you and Dongwoon prepared to come to the end of packing his belongings for him to head on tour. All evening something that had been up with Dongwoon, eventually spilling.

Your head nodded as Dongwoon voiced his concerns about leaving you and going on tour. “How come you’re worried about me? I’ll be alright by myself.”

“WIll you still be here?” He asked.

“Of course,” you scoffed, almost in disbelief that Dongwoon would ask you such a thing. “You think that I’d leave whilst you’re on the road or something, have you lost your mind?”

Dongwoon’s shoulders shrugged in reply to you, “it crossed my mind, I’m scared you’ll get bored of waiting for me or find someone who can be around.”

“It’s only a couple of weeks, I’ll just be missing you.”

“Really?” Dongwoon quizzed in surprise, feeling your hand rest over the top of his. “You promise that you’ll be here when I get back home Y/N?”

“Of course, I promise,” you chuckled, squeezing against Dongwoon’s hand, “just as long as you promise to miss me whilst you’re on tour.”

Dongwoon’s head nodded instantly back to you, “I know that I’ll be missing you every second whilst I’m gone.”

“And I’ll be missing you just as much too.”

---

Masterlist

[pseudowho]

Nanami Kento is the "Stay down!" Fighter aesthetic; take your beating because you're too pathetic to take any more, don't waste his time by trying to carry on fighting, he's taken pity on you so don't throw that back in his face kind of fighter.

"Stay down. I'm done with you. I've got ten more just like you to beat bloody out there, and I'm not staying for overtime."

Higuruma Hiromi is the "Get up!" Fighter aesthetic; you drag him into a fight and now you just want to lay down and die like a little bitch? Please. You fight until you're dead. Go into this with conviction and commit kind of fighter.

"Get up! I'll kill you on the ground if that's what you want, you sorry piece of shit, but it's an ugly way to die."

And...these two aesthetics are Besto Friendos.

Neat Suit/Messy Suit aesthetics

Cold Anger/Hot Anger Aesthetics

City-Skyline Penthouse/Converted-Factory Penthouse aesthetics

Image Credit: moonlessoul

[xerith-42]

So I've been thinking about the Guard Oath

You know the one. The one that was put into effect the day after Laurance sacrificed himself. And then was promptly forgotten about?

Well uhhh...

It wasn't forgotten about

Laurance is uhhh... not going to forget about it

(shout out to @cinnamontoastcroonch for pushing me down the slide in the playground and making me write this)

[shiningstarr15]

✨Shooting Star✨

Based on a fanart I saw of another brotp of mine doing this and basically said “it’s them.”

If no one is making art of them acting cute and silly together then I am no longer on this planet

LET THEM BE SILLY AND HAVE FUN!

[runraerun]

leotards & sun-in

Written for the @harringrovemicroficandart challenge for September. The prompt was: ☀️Summer & Jealous💚

ao3 | rating: T (just for language) | length: 1k

summary:

Billy takes another puff of his cigarette before blowing the smoke out the window in a pathetic attempt to delay the inevitable.

“I saw you with her.”

“With who?”

“Teal leotard! Fucking Jane Fonda, I don’t know!”

“Cindy? We were just talking.”

“She was touching you! And you weren’t—you didn’t stop her.”

“Baby…” Steve smiles. He fucking smiles! The no-good cheating bastard…

Or, Billy catches Steve cheating. Or does he?

Billy should’ve known when he had to park his Camaro at the ass end of the Starcourt parking lot that the place would be packed. The heatwave was driving everyone inside, and the mall had a pretty bitchin’ AC system. Billy didn’t mind the heat—in fact, he’d be out there right now, shirtless, soaking up some rays if he didn’t have to pick Steve up from his shift at Scoops.

The whole him and Steve thing was still sort of fresh. They’d been messing around for a while, but it was only in the last few weeks that they’d agreed to put a label on it.

Boyfriends.

Jesus Christ…

He knew moving to Indiana would change him, but he didn’t know to what degree. Not the queer part—Billy knew he didn’t like girls. The only thing that got his dick hard was another dick.

But the boyfriend part? The holding hands at the movies, the making out on the hood of his car, the pet names, the Valentine’s Day gifts… he was turning into a fucking sap.

It’s almost embarrassing how gone he is for Steve.

So when Billy catches sight of an exceptionally pretty girl through the glass store front of Scoops, clad in one of those leotards that look like they're painted on, and with her hand buried in Steve’s hair—he sees red.

Billy’s furious entrance through the glass doors was somewhat damped by the stupid little bell chiming above him.

The girl jumps, pulling her hand free from Steve’s—his boyfriend’s—hair.

“Oh, hey Billy.” Steve says, all smiles.

And as much as Billy wants to fucking explode, he keeps it bottled up. Knows he can’t lose it right now. Instead, he focuses on taking deep, even breaths.

Both the chick and Steve stare after him, waiting for Billy to make some kind of reply. When it’s clear that that isn’t gonna happen, she just turns back to Steve.

“Well, thanks for the tip, Steve. See you tomorrow.” She says.

“See ya.” Steve returns. The girl then gives Billy a wide berth as she walks out of the store.

“Ready to go?” Steve asks, like nothing was amiss.

Or maybe this is just Steve’s own way of keeping his cool. Maybe… he was waiting until he got Billy alone to explain. To call this whole thing off.

It was all sort of too good to be true anyway. Real pie in the sky shit. It was stupid. Billy was stupid.

So he just nods, not trusting his own mouth. Doesn’t know whether he’ll yell or cry.

It’s not until they’re walking across the parking lot that Steve nudges him with an elbow. “You okay? You’re kinda quiet.”

Billy’s fingers are suddenly itching for a cigarette, so instead of answering Steve, he fishes out a smoke and his lighter.

“Did something happen? Your dad? Did he–”

“It’s not my fucking dad.” Billy snaps.

“Then what is it?” Steve stops walking. He looks at Billy with his head tilted, eyes squinting against the sunlight.

Billy takes a drag of his cigarette and holds it in his lungs for as long as he can before he exhales through his nose. It barely touches his frayed nerves. “Don’t play dumb with me.”

The line between Steve’s brows deepens. “What?”

But Billy turns his back to Steve, taking long strides toward his car.

“Wait! You can’t just–”

“Do you really wanna do this here?” Billy turns, motioning with his cigarette to the handful of random shoppers just searching for their own vehicles.

“Do what?” Steve asks in a voice pitched higher than normal.

“I saw you!” Billy barks, probably too loudly. But in the moment he doesn’t fucking care.

“Saw me? Saw me do what?”

Billy just huffs and takes his last remaining steps until he reaches his vehicle. “Just get in the car. I’ll still drive you home.”

They get in, but when Billy puts the keys to the ignition, Steve swipes them from his hand and holds them out of reach.

“Harrington, I swear–”

“We’re not going anywhere until you explain to me why you’re practically foaming at the mouth.”

Billy takes another puff of his cigarette before blowing the smoke out the window in a pathetic attempt to delay the inevitable.

“I saw you with her.”

“With who?”

“Teal leotard! Fucking Jane Fonda, I don’t know!”

Steve pauses for a beat. “Cindy? We were just talking.”

“She was touching you! And you weren’t–-you didn’t stop her.”

“Baby…” Steve smiles. He fucking smiles!

“It’s not funny!” Now it’s Billy’s turn for his voice to go high.

“It’s not funny, you’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just–Cindy’s married.”

“So? Married people cheat.”

“So she was just asking me where I got my highlights done, because she wanted some. I told her my boyfriend put me onto Sun-In, and I was just explaining to her that it didn’t dry out my ends. I told her she could feel my hair to prove it. And, I don’t know, maybe that’s weird but I wasn’t really thinking about–”

Billy’s mind had gone blank after hearing— “You told her you have a boyfriend?”

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, like he actually had been caught doing something wrong, Steve confesses, “well, her yoga instructor is definitely gay and she doesn’t seem to care, so I figure it wouldn’t be that big of a deal… Look, I know it’s stupid, and dangerous but… I like telling people.”

Steve’s excited to be dating him, Billy realizes, his chest suddenly feeling tight enough to burst. So excited that he wants to tell people.

“Oh.” Is all he can say.

Steve finally lets himself laugh. “I’m sorry! It’s just… You’re really cute when you’re jealous.”

“Shut up.” Billy says, but there’s no heat behind it. He leans over and presses his lips to Steve’s.

To his boyfriend’s lips.

Jesus Christ…

He’s so fucking gone. It should be embaressing, but Billy’s too fucking in love to care.

[taz-writes]

here's a hot take for today

the narrative function of sex is the same as the narrative function of fight scenes is the same as the narrative function of songs in a musical

no i will not explain

[chainsawch]

*squishes ur paws* @toxycodone

Happy pride month to thistle and venery, I support gay wrongs only

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

Finally catching up on the Horizons episodes I missed 👍

[xelasrecords]

Thank You for the Food

Han Jumin x Reader

Living alone is fun and liberating until you fall sick and there's no one to ask for help when you're too tired to cook or fetch your own food. This is a lighthearted wintry story for anyone who needs a holiday pick-me-up.

In Another Story, when Jumin texts you "text denied", you can get a heart from him if you reply with "denial denied". That's when I know this man got verbal sparring potential, which is to say, my kind of man. The banter here is 100% powered by that.

Words: 3.5k

Masterlist Read on AO3

Jumin likes you. You don't know this yet, and perhaps his feelings haven't grown that deep to be labelled as love, but he has a very strong inclination towards you.

Jumin wants to do almost everything for you. You're an important member of the RFA, as he likes to remind you, so he wants to cook for you when you fall sick. It's a reasonable thing to do, so please don't read too much into this.

Jumin is atrocious at cooking. His list of experiences consists of making instant pancakes, and that's it, really.

But it's late and he's here after a hectic work day, arranging the steaming soup he'd personally packed from home on your dining table. He's here, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, winter coat hung by the door, concern knitted into his face. He's here, standing as awkward as the bare Christmas tree in the room that you haven't had the chance to decorate, but you don't feel uncomfortable because he's here. He's here, he's here.

Your heart makes way for him.

Jumin sets down a spoon by your hand. "Is your headache persisting? If you need to see a doctor, I can refer you to a specialist in the area."

You shake your head. "It's fine, I just need to rest. I'm only like this because I overworked myself. The holiday season is always rough. And yes," you say, holding up a hand before he could protest, "I've taken a break from work." If you don't stop him in time, you know you'd be subjected to a slew of nagging, fully backed up with scientific research.

"How about your fever?" Jumin asks while sliding into the chair opposing you. After a beat, he leans across the table with an arm stretched out. "May I?"

It's an opportunity to engage in physical contact with Jumin, and you are an opportunist when it comes to him. Your hand reaches for his and presses it to your forehead. Your skin burns against his cold palm, but the fault isn't entirely on your fever.

Jumin stands up immediately and places his other hand on the side of your neck. "Your temperature is still very high. Are you sure you can take care of yourself like this?"

You give him a pointed look. "If it's low I'd be a corpse."

"If it's lower you'd be normal."

"Are you saying I'm abnormal, strange, odd, peculiar, et cetera?"

"I'm referring to your current biological state. Only with a healthy body, you can function with optimal productivity." Jumin is very determined to share his wisdom. "If you'd like a caretaker…" he trails off, frowning. "Actually, I'm available to stay over if you need me to," he enunciates his offer carefully, letting it hang like a question.

Though every cell in your body screams in agreement, you set your hopes aside. He could have meant nothing by it. He could have only been extending his hospitality as a friend, nothing more.

His hands are still on you for longer than necessary.

"I'll decide based on how good your masterpiece tastes." It was a safe answer. As you shift your attention to the soup in front of you, Jumin pulls back, seemingly too aware of what he has let happen.

The soup is still hot, its swirling steam brushing your face. It has a muddy texture and a stuffy aroma with a note of coarseness, which you doubt it's how it's supposed to smell, but you're willing to give Jumin the benefit of the doubt.

"Masterpiece? Well, I suppose it is." He straightens his vest and slides back into his chair. "My chef said ginseng chicken soup is an effective remedy to fever, so I would have to thank him later."

"Wait." Your mouth hangs open, spoon hovering. "This is supposed to be chicken soup?"

"Yes."

You blink. "Then where's the chicken?"

"I burned it." Jumin clasps his fingers on the table. "I didn't have time to boil another one, but I'm sure its essence has seeped into the broth. Chicken essence also has medicinal qualities, I heard."

"Medicinal," you echo. Perhaps you should retract the benefit you extended to him.

Jumin gives you a confident nod and you smile hesitantly, raising the spoon as a cheer then take a sip. Then fight back a cough. Then fight to keep your expression straight.

Not to be dramatic, but it tastes like death. Did Jumin pour the entire ocean tainted by factory waste into this soup?

His creation should be on the Guinness record. It's a miracle how it can be excruciatingly salty and bitter with none of the usual earthy sweetness from the ginseng. This is best served for your worst enemies, except you aren't sure if your current worst enemy is the soup or Jumin. If he told you this is an elaborate plot to worsen your health to prevent you from returning to your hellish routine, you would probably believe it.

It would be an insult to thank the chef for this.

But Jumin's watching you eagerly and you can't bear to stomp on his spirit, so despite how your stomach is very much stomping in protest, you force a wide grin. "It's very unique and flavourful! I can still taste the chicken on my tongue. It's like its poor burnt soul had never left the pot. The power of phantom chicken, truly." You cover your mouth, attempting to hide a cough. "Did you follow the exact recipe?"

Jumin seems relieved at your reaction. "Actually, I took some liberties. I may be a beginner, but it would be boring if I followed the chef's instructions precisely, so I put my own twist and innovated a brand new dish."

This innovation could invent a new illness in people.

"Wow, I didn't know you're creative too. Good for you!" You can feel your grin evolving into a wince, so you quickly scoop more soup into your mouth. Better finish it fast than let it grow cold. Who knows how it would taste then.

"May I give it a try? I'm curious how it managed to warrant such high praise from you," he asks.

Your throat is as rough as asphalt when you croak, "You didn't try when you made this?"

"I was rushing to get to you. As you already know, I'm good in all my endeavours, so I was confident this would turn out well." Jumin sits back with arms crossed, a smug smile tugging his lips. "It appears that once again, I'm right."

Look where over-the-top lying and grade-A bullshitting got you.

"No," you briskly say.

His smile turns into a frown. "No?"

"No! You're not suggesting we share a spoon, are you? That'd be unhygienic."

"Surely you have another spoon at home?" He looks around the kitchen and sees the cutlery rack. "Oh, it's there. Please sit down, don't exert yourself. I can get it on my own."

As Jumin walks towards the rack, you quickly jump off your chair while ignoring the pounding headache that follows. "Jumin, wait." You grab at his arm desperately. "You made that soup for me, yes? That means it's mine to finish. Don't even think about stealing my food."

He turns to you almost just as fast. "Don't jump like that. Are you all right?" He holds you by your shoulders, grey eyes flitting up and down to examine you. Only when he's reassured of your wellbeing that he relaxes. "I find it surprising that you don't want to share food. When have you changed?"

"Since you made that soup with your whole heart." You motion at the bowl beside you. "It's mine, all right?" Without waiting, you swipe it off the table and try to gulp down the rest.

Keyword: try.

It's a fantastically failed attempt. They say the more you grow, the more you know yourself. Well, it's true. The questionable things you'd do for a crush know no bounds. Turns out, it's you who deserves an award for being the best fool in love.

You're about to finish when you begin to choke, and what a sight it is. You, trying to dial back the coughing to a minimum to avoid spreading the virus and embarrassment, yet visibly cringing from swallowing the contents. Jumin, his whole body frigid in alarm before switching the bowl out of your grasp with a glass of water, which you gratefully gulp down.

So much for pretension.

"Okay, fine, it's horrible," you give in, tears blurring your sight. Would it be too much to declare your taste buds to be damaged?

Jumin's expression is a slow-motion picturesque of horror. "You lied to me."

"I can't mock your hard work to your face," you hurriedly say. "I love the, um, texture? It's soupy. Transported me to the seaside. Very refreshing."

If the seaside is engulfed by a tsunami, that is.

"Soup is supposed to have the texture of soup," he says.

"It could've gone worse! It could've been so lumpy it's chewy."

Jumin looks affronted. "Has the fever gone to your head? What kind of liquid is chewable?"

The salt has.

"The fever is in my head. And in my other body parts. Don't you know how fever works?" You cross your arms. "And, insinuating me of delirium and therefore incapable of forming coherent thoughts just because I'm slightly sick only makes you sound all the more condescending. Maybe your soup has transformed me. Maybe your soup has dissolved my brain into mush. Maybe your power of cooking has transcended science."

"Then stop eating it if you hate it so much. Just how bad could it be?" Jumin fetches a spoon from the cutlery rack and tries it himself.

To no one's surprise and probably Jumin's only, he instantly sputters it out. You watch him. Then, with an attitude fuelled by a hundred I-told-you-so's, you calmly pass him a glass of water.

"Why," he gasps, "would you put your body through this? This is inedible."

You pat the edge of his lips with a tissue—a wonderful disguise to touch him again—and decide to test him. "Why do you think?"

"If you're doing this to spare my feelings, you're only wasting your energy. I don't get easily offended and I'm excellent at receiving feedback. I would've improved this soup if you had told me the truth."

You wrestle the bowl out of his hand and place it on the table. "Jumin, from the bottom of my heart, I'm begging you not to do anything more to it. Ever heard of what doing the same thing over and over again while expecting a different result means?"

"The very definition of improvement means implementing different methods to make it better."

"Not when those methods have one thing in common: you."

"You seem to have lost your pleasantries, but I'll excuse it since you're ill," says Jumin, tone totally pleasant.

"Do you know how aggravating you can be?" you retort, not at all pleasant.

Jumin nods solemnly. "I've heard Zen accusing me with more colourful insults. It also appears that Assistant Kang often shares his opinion." Then he puts on a neutral expression so carefully crafted that you know it's anything but. It's an expression designed to boast. "Of course, I'm one of a kind. It's natural that not everyone can get along with me. It'd be a privilege to gain my courtesy."

And yet here you are in my house. "I wouldn't say it's a privilege to be personally poisoned by you."

Jumin grunts. "That's not what you implied when you doled out those high compliments."

"If you'd read into the subtext, you'd know I wasn't praising you." You pick up the bowl again and sigh. "Let's move on to something else after I finish this."

"Are you serious?"

You mimic his deadpan tone the best you can, "I'm always serious."

"So now you drink poison."

You shrug. "You said it, not me."

This time, Jumin touches you first. His fingers splay out on your arm, halting you from doing another stupid thing. As you proclaimed earlier: the best fool in love.

"Pardon me if I still can't comprehend why you're so adamant to finish that," he says. "Unless you're trying to prove that the fever has infected your brain?"

You aren't going to let Jumin push you to confess first. Not when you're in your worst shape, complete with ashen lips and bird-nest hair from lying in bed the whole day. Your nightmare before Christmas has arrived too soon.

"Are you asking because you really have no idea or are you looking for confirmation?"

Jumin tilts his head. "What are you insinuating?"

"Don't play coy, Jumin."

"I'm not playing anything. It would be cruel to play with a sick person."

Sometimes, a person could get a sharp zing of epiphany and it would feel like this is it, this is what you're meant to do. And sometimes, that moment comes when the man who stirs up a flurry of emotions in you is so infuriating that it has become your new mission to make him confess first.

The visit, the food, the dancing around the truth. They all click. The fever has not gone to your head.

Who visits a random woman's place on a freezing night, during peak season at work, when the said woman is only felled with a mild illness, nothing medication and rest can't cure?

Not Jumin.

"Let me ask you one thing. Why are you here?" you prod.

Jumin looks at you as if it's something you should already know. A common answer to a common question. "You need to eat a proper meal and no one's around to take care of you. I'm not going to let you drag yourself out for food when it's a blizzard outside."

Glancing out the window where snow is falling rapidly, you won't deny that trudging alone in that weather would be a poor survival method. Zero out of ten doctors would suggest it.

You snort, eyeing the soup at hand. "And this is a proper meal?"

"Accidents happen, but my intention remains the same."

"You could've ordered something for me, sent over a chef, or asked Jaehee to check on me. Aren't you too busy to waste your precious time like this?"

"No time is wasted if it's spent on you. You're an important person to me, so I needed to make sure with my own eyes that you're all right." Jumin's forehead creases with worry. "All I could think about at work was you. I was afraid you might faint and no one would be here to help."

You don't bother to hold back a small smile. "Well, you're here now, so what's your assessment?"

At least he has the decency to look contrite. "Moderately alarming upon first look, worse after consuming my soup. My alarm is on full blare now, so please, stop this madness." Jumin pries the bowl out of your hand and sets it back on the table before fixing his posture. After a moment, he pushes the bowl farther out of your reach for good measure.

You shake your head at how adorable he is. "I also have an assessment on my own."

"Go on."

"I think the things you said and did are a roundabout way to confess your feelings for me. You like me."

You let it float between you, trying to gauge Jumin's reaction, but he's still, too still for your liking. You know you aren't wrong, but could this be the wrong time to poke at his feelings?

"And would it bother you," Jumin asks slowly, "if I tell you that you are correct?"

Bother you?

Bother you.

Jumin must think that his feelings could disrupt your peace, but if they could, then you don't want to know another moment of peace. He's the one who gives you the sense of calmness that you long for. His mere presence brings you comfort. He's the one you rely on to lift your spirits. It's appalling how your feelings that are so palpable to you could be invisible in the eye of your direct affection.

You take a step closer, studying him. Black hair thoroughly mussed by the wind, ruddy cheeks, and a tender expression that you've never seen him wear with other people. "Do you really think you're the only one with a crush?" you whisper.

Jumin stares at you in disbelief, but it slowly morphs into relief when the truth dawns on him. "I didn't want to be," he murmurs. "Truth be told, I've had my suspicions since you insisted to eat that cursed dish, but I couldn't be sure until you give me a clear sign."

"So you admit that you're searching for a confirmation." A smug grin appears on your lips. "I literally swallowed poison for you. If that isn't a clear enough sign, then I don't know what is."

He clears his throat. "I wouldn't go so far as to call my cooking poison. It was a beginner mistake at worst. Can't you spare some mercy on my first trial?"

You gawp. "To hell with mercy. I was your experiment subject?"

"I thought it'd be more special if you were the first person to try my cooking."

"It was certainly nothing like anything I've tasted before," you say.

His lips pressed into a smile. "Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"I was responding to your sarcasm with sarcasm. Do keep up." Jumin's eyes twinkle with mischief, and it makes you want to strangle and kiss him at the same time.

You rake your fingers through your hair. "Should I kick you out?"

He raises his dark brows. "You wouldn't want to do that."

"I want to do a lot of things to you, Jumin." You hoist yourself up the table and smirk at him. "Shame they'd have to wait until I recover."

Carefully, he slots himself between your legs, arms kept to his sides so he won't touch your bare thighs by accident. It's endearing how cautious he is. "Is there anything I can do to make your illness go away faster? I can't wait to see what you've got planned."

You laugh. "You'd be scandalised."

You close your legs just a bit more so they brush against his trousers. Jumin's breath hitches and you arch a brow, a silent dare for him to make his next move. He chuckles, then settles his hands on your thighs. A light touch that turns into a reassuring grip.

"I doubt they could rival my desires against you." His tone takes on a sultry cadence that draws your body in.

"Stay the night. You made the offer earlier, and the weather is too harsh to go home. So, stay."

Jumin lights up at your request, and you feel giddy with how transparent he is. Look at the joy you can spark within him. "Are you going to pour wine for me while putting on the records too?"

You crack up laughing. "I can't believe you just quoted 'Baby, It's Cold Outside'!"

"Paraphrased," he corrects. "It's unfortunate that they don't mention wine in the song. Didn't they know wine is the most fitting drink for the holidays?"

"You think wine is the best fitting drink for any occasion."

"Red wine contains antioxidants that are helpful in preventing coronary artery disease and has been proven to reduce stress and anxiety. It has countless qualities that are beneficial for your health," says Jumin.

"Like your ginseng chicken soup?"

He sighs. "I see you're fond of reminding me of my failures."

You make a show of cleaning invisible dirt on his shoulders. "I'm fond of seeing you admitting defeat," you say. "And you haven't given me an answer. Will you stay or do I have to belt out the whole song to persuade you?"

The corner of Jumin's mouth twitches up. He's always been fond of your theatrics, and now, finally, he knows that you want to be with him as much as he does. "Of course I'll stay, I'd be a fool to turn you down. In any case, I'm glad everything works out."

The triumph in your chest transforms into suspicion. "What works out?"

"My overnight clothes are packed inside that briefcase." Jumin gestures at the leather briefcase on your couch.

"You planned for this?" you ask, partly in awe, mostly in surprise.

"I simply prepared for all the possible scenarios."

"And one of them is to sleep with me."

Jumin rubs his lips. "I never mentioned anything about sleeping together."

You roll your eyes. "Fine, but don't ask me to sleep with you later, because I won't."

"Is this the game you want to play?" Jumin braces his hands on the counter, trapping you between him. You have to keep reminding yourself not to make out with him when you're still sick. "Very well. For your information, I never lose. If you don't want to sleep with me, then don't." He leans in, lips nearly brushing your ear. "See how long you can last."

But just because you're ill doesn't mean you've lost your touch. You tilt your head to meet his gaze and smirk. "Game on."

-

Footnotes:

Wanted to title this "Jumin's Bullshit" as a reference to Tyler's Bullshit from the film The Menu, but alas. Holler if you've watched it tho!

Went with ginseng chicken soup because it's a traditional Korean healing food and I thought Jumin would want to cook something with a homemade feel to comfort you. Also, I was craving it.

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[unopenablebox]

while im bragging about beautiful hair colors that exist in my life and/or apartment my girlfriend has the most incredibly gorgeous dark, dark, dark brown-black hair. you can only really tell it's brown by looking at the sun-lightened top layers/highlights vs the darker basically-black sections. it's astoundingly beautiful

[arom-antix]

Viktuuri week day 6: Love

[spnfanficpond]

How My Light Is Spent

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Case Fic, Blindness, Blind Dean Winchester, Brothers, Brotherly Love, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort, Stanford Era (Supernatural), POV Dean Winchester, Pre-Series Dean Winchester, Pre-Series Sam Winchester Summary:

Dean isn't sure what had just woken him up. He lies in bed, perfectly still, taking shallow breaths, and listens.

He doesn't know what time it is. He got back from his solo hunt and dropped into bed like a stone. No doubt it's still the middle of the night, with how pitch black everything is.

No, not black like the night; it's completely dark, like a cave, like a windowless cell.

Like a coffin.

Admin Michelle here with another SPNFanFicPond Fic Highlight!

Holy moly, this one had me tense on the edge of my seat all the way through it!! Reading Dean's inner monologue as he tries to work his way through what's happening to him and how to get help to fix it was heartbreaking. This is so well written, that I could feel Dean's panic as I was reading about it. Part of me really wants someone to make a podfic of this so someone who is visually impaired can read it and give their opinion, too.

In short, this is an excellent study in Dean's inner monologue when he's in trouble, how he reaches out for help, and how relieved and comforted he feels when it arrives. The way he feels about Sam just shines through and warms the heart!

[princess-pray-a]

Ok i Get it Clavis A Certified Kid

Yes yes he is a kid *nodds 😤vigrously💓* dyamnnn seneschal really adores clavis , like marquis for chev but he showers his love 💓to him in rememberance of letica i wanna give a group hugg😭😭😭g MY EYES ARE WATERYYY Clavis route main route

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[hikari-writes]

Thinking of kissing goshiki tsutomu's stupidly handsome face.

He would be so caught off guard. One moment he was rambling about his day then the next he suddenly came to a halt when he felt your soft lips against his cheek.

Took him a while to realize what you did before his face turned bright red and him stammering out a "w-what was that for?!"

You simply grinned cheekily at him. His reaction was always so fun you just couldn't help it.

"What? I can't kiss my handsome boyfriend's cheeks now?"

He frowned and you could see him pouting a bit. "I never said that...it's just..."

You leaned closer to him. "Just what?"

But stopped when he placed his lips on yours, successfully wiping the teasing grin you were wearing.

"It's just unfair when you did it first." He continued after your lips parted. How the tables have turned now that you're the one who was blushing heavily and he's the one with a victorious grin.

Hey ho its a short one but just needed to get it out of my system okay? Okay. Queued again lololol bye im not here physically ✌✌

[vtoriacore]

Crying sobbing and weeping till either Cater or Che'nya gives me a kissy

✧ cherry magic

note: you caught me in a cater mood, but tbf che'nya was a close contender. i might write something for him when i'm in the mood if you ever wanna req the skrunkly ever again hehe. (bonus points if it involves giving him ear scritches cause he reminds me of my cat who suspiciously acts just like him lmao)

"Cater. Cater~ CATER. Cay-kun! Cray-cay. These will start getting worse if you don't pay attention to me," you pouted at the red-head situated across from you who surprisingly, was actually doing the school work he was assiged. Probably forced to by Riddle, but doing school work nonetheless. 

But of course, you being you, had wanted to do something a little different and were not about to give up on your quest to get the attention of your dear Cater.

"This is so unfair, you always distract me when I have to do important stuff [Name]~" Cater sighed out, emerald green eyes no longer being able to focus on anything other than you. He is aware it's a bad idea to get tempted now, but then again, he also is very aware he will not regret this later.

"Ha, victory once more!" you grinned, standing up to walk over to where your boyfriend was sitting and trying to solve some boring old math equations.

"Hm? So what exactly do you need? It's usually me battling for your attention y'know. Which by the way, Ace and Deuce don't deserve!" with a playful wink, Cater scoots over so you can sit down beside him, fully abandoning his previous task.

"Oh you know, I want the usual. A kiss, which by the way, I deserve!" you mirrored his speech, noticing the slight crimson hue settling on his freckled face.

"Way to catch me off guard hun!" you giggled at the response before drawing a bit closer, eyes full of mirth and watching the boys' composure crumble further. For someone so extroverted and confident, he really was easy to fluster, huh? 

"You should've expected it really, I always ask for the same thing," you took Carter's face in between your hands, heartbeat speeding up at the genuine smile spreading on his face.

"Everything feels new when it's with you though, so my point still stands~" voice hushed, the read-head placed one of his own hands on your own before using the other to settle at the back of your head. Wasting almost no time, he drew in closer until you could feel his lips pressed up against your own, cherry chapstick invading all your senses.

After a few seconds, which felt like more than just that, he pulled away and gazed into your eyes; you swear nobody has ever regarded you in such a loving manner.

"Who knew you could be so romantic?" you could barely breathe with how flustered you felt at both the proximity and his actions.

"Cherry chapstick magic hun, that one Magicam post recommendation was so right," your lover had fully drawn back, covering his mouth with his hand as he observed your expression with giddiness.

"Well, you better share it with me because it worked wonders," you relaxed into the seat with a laugh, desperately trying to will the blush on your face away as Cater used his free hand to hold yours all the while gazing at your happy form.

He really should've been paying attention to the work, but how could he when the attention he had wanted from you was right there for him to grab?

[multiphandomunnies]

Misc. groups

After school

Reactions

How they are with first gf

Nana

Gf! Nana

Astro

Rocky

Long night

Clc

Reactions

Fem! Crush coming out

4 minute

Reactions

S.o is a scorpio

Kard

Reactions

Soulmate au

Highlight

Yoseop

Jealousy is poison

Vixx

Reactions

S.o using chopsticks for the first time

Winner

Scenarios

Jealous winner

Mino

Not enough?

2ne1

Reactions

S.o is a Scorpio

S.o is a leo

Nine percent

Reactions

Making s.o feel better

They pass out during practice and you find out

Stood up by crush

Cai Xukun

Let’s meet in the garden

Sonamoo

Reactions

Gf kisses them first

Hearing their s.o’s morning voice

Crush has the same patronus as them

Cuddling with their s.o for the first time

d.ana

girlfriend d.ana

A.C.E

Reactions

S.o is clumsy

Bf wearing feminine clothes

S.o falls asleep on their lap

Matilda

Reactions

S.o shows up at fan meet

B1A4

Reactions

Gf bites their neck

Crush lays their head on their lap

Scenarios

How B1A4 would kiss

How they are on dates

Gugudan

Sejeong

Newly weds

BTOB

Minhyuk

Bf! Minhyuk

Ilhoon

Almost family

Weki Meki

Doyeon

Gf! Doyeon

Sei

Single mom Au

Itzy

Reactions

Bf throwing them over their shoulder

AOA

Jimin

Soulmate au

Wjsn

Exy

Pottery

Madly in love

Bona

Gf! Bona

Big bang

Reactions

S.o has a different religion

Scenarios

As types of jealous

Imagines

Loving boyfriend