#its one of those shows that cracks u open like an egg and well baby call me humpty dumpty

[1031am]

i could write the paper thats now three days late or make up some data for a research project i didn't do or clean my room or make a doctors appointment or call the pharmacy to get my prescription refilled or go to bed bc i have an eye exam in the morning but instead i think i'll rewatch netflix's 2018 limited series maniac staring jonah hill and emma stone for approximately the 12th time (<- bad at being alive)

[twistedmusings]

A/N: Riddle is always so weird for me to write because I do see him as baby but the moment things get romantic I can so see him as the type that just...is more than ready to explore the romantic territory with you? Like yes he is baby but he would be so gentle with the smooches... But I digress.  I am making my way through requests, currently have five in my inbox so I might close it up once it reaches ten. Just to get the ball rolling since I am a baby blog u wu.  Warnings: None! Just tooth rotting fluff!  Straight from the cookbook section of our bountiful library, @lunalasolaris​!

Let me get that book for you! 

“Hey Riddle?” 

“Hm?” 

“What does a pinch mean?” 

Grey eyes look up from the cup of flour he was meticulously trying to measure as you hold up the recipe book in front of him. 

“Does it mean that we just put a little bit of the salt into the cake?” you point at the specific line, tapping it twice to emphasize your point, “Or we grab a pinch with our fingers and just...toss it in there?Cause I can grab a lot of salt in between my fingers if I need to.” 

Riddle frowns as he tries to remember how Trey used to bake some of his previous Unbirthday cakes. It was easy to break down his process but with how quickly he moved the Heartslabyul dorm leader found himself at a loss of what a pinch looked like. Of all the executive decisions he had to make, why was this one so difficult? 

He locked eyes with you, blushing when he saw how close you had gotten before pulling away and dumps the cup of flour into the small mixing bowl. 

"We don't want them to taste salty so we'll put only a small amount. What comes next?" 

"Eggs...three I think. Oh and we need to add them to the dry mix while it is being sifted." you grab the eggs and scoot closer to him as Riddle grabs the sifter, turning around to see you so close once again. 

You hold up the eggs and smile. 

"Ready?" 

It was nerve wracking being here with you. Not just nerve wracking, it was also stress inducing and blood pumping to have you so close after Riddle had come to a definitive conclusion about his feelings about you. It had come at a cost of many sleepless nights and the certain teasings of some of his oldest friends but once Trey sat him down and asked him how he truly felt about you, the words slipped so easily out of his mouth that even he was surprised at the lack of thought in them. 

Riddle likes you. Alot. 

It was the way you talked with him during Unbirthday parties, unbothered by rules and manners as you plopped yourself down next to him and spoke about whatever you had going on that day. Riddle thought that it sort of reminded him of Chenya, his friend always appearing out of nowhere with a similar grin yet his was always filled with mischief while yours was nothing more than a way for you to show how happy you were to see him. 

Or at least he hoped that was the case. 

You smiled at everyone. At Ace and Deuce whenever they did something silly, at Cater whenever he pointed his camera at you, even at Trey whe he would lean down and offer you one of the many pastries he had baked that day. But, and it might just be his own subconscious silently hoping for this, Riddle believed the smile that you had for him was special. The moment your eyes landed on him it was like watching a rose bloom. Those cheeks of yours would turn a soft shade of red as you approached him and pulled him into whatever activity you found yourself doing. 

Maybe that is how he had been roped into this situation with you. He had only dropped by Ramshackle to drop off something you had left in Ace and Deuce’s room but he knew that the moment you tugged on his wrist and pulled him inside, he was more than willing to do whatever it is that you were doing before he showed up. 

That activity being something you two weren’t particularly good at...baking. 

Riddle finally answered your question with a nod, having already dumped the contents into the silver sifter and grabbing onto the small handle. “I’ll start then.”

It had all turned out a mess. Your hands either tended to crack the eggs too softly that they wouldn't crack on the first try or they would be too harsh and immediately break the egg on impact, leaving both of you to fish out the remnants of the shells before Riddle went right back to sifting. Then came the mixing of the ingredients, Ramshackle not necessarily having the fanciest of gadgets you two instead had to mix everything by hand. It was a bit of a chance for him to show himself off for you but the moment he hissed at his muscles cramping up, you took the bowl from him and poked his cheek. “Chill out, dorm leader Rosehearts, I’ll take it from here~” 

How odd. Riddle was used to people calling him by his official title but in your cause it was almost alarming how much he liked it. 

A few more mishaps, staring at the cookbook and one call to Trey and soon you two were on the floor with a bowl of strawberries in between you as the cake baked in Ramshackle’s tiny oven. “Thank you for going along with this.” you munch on the end of a strawberry before continuing, “I was panicking when I first started so it was a heaven sent when you came along.” 

His heart skips a beat as Riddle clears his throat. 

“This is just what a dorm leader should do for another. I’m merely completing my duties.” 

You pout for a moment but grin as you scoot closer to him, “So if I wasn’t a dorm leader I would just be another face in the crowd?” It is like a shock of electricity shoots straight up his back, straightening him out as he corrects you. 

“No! You are still a student here...and someone who has attended many Unbirthdays and tea parties in Heartslabyul! I’m sure that if it wasn’t for that mishap in the dorm selection ceremony, you would have certainly been picked to be in Heartslabyul! To me you are not just someone in the crowd! You are--” He barely registers how close he had gotten, the bowl of strawberries pushed out of the way as you both stare into each other’s eyes. You hadn’t moved back. Your gaze was holding on strong to his as the hum of the oven became the only sound in the room. 

Hands so close, fingertips almost touching. “Riddle--I--I like--”

A ding interrupted your words, the little invisible bubble you and Riddle had created suddenly popping as you stood up and grabbed the oven mitts. 

You grin as you put the small container on the counter, Riddle cutting into the sides with a dull knife in order to unstick it from the pan. How wonderful was it when things came together that when you both watched the warm baked good slide out of its silvery confine you let out a sigh of relief and started to decorate.

“We almost ate half of the strawberries.” Riddle frowns as you grab the bowl from the floor. “I didn’t hear you complaining when I put them down! You are just as guilty as I if Trey doesn’t like the finished product.” 

He stops cutting the fruit into smaller pieces as he watches you spread the whipped cream along the sides of the cake. “...you...are you giving this to Trey?” 

Why was he so nervous? Trey liked to test everybody’s baking skills if they seem to have any or he just liked to tease those who couldn’t cook by teaching them how to figure it out all on their own. Besides, Trey was a third year and needed to concentrate on his future internship and not be issuing challenges to first years--!

“Yeah? He said that tomorrow’s tea party was going to be a ‘bring your own’ kind of thing?” you scoop a dollop of whipped cream on your finger and lick it off, further distracting Riddle. “Tea party…” 

“Yeah...he said you were having one tomorrow. Did you cancel it?” you give him a surprised look, “Have we been struggling with this baking stuff for nothing?” 

No. Riddle knew every single tea party that would be having throughout the academic year. And yes, they were having one tomorrow. There was one detail that didn’t sit quite right with him, however. 

Never in the history of the Heartslabyul dormitory had there been a ‘potluck’ tea party. 

Either those good at baking made the pastries for that day’s tea party or they would not be any tea party at all. 

Great Seven’s knew what would happen if any first years, Ace and Deuce specifically, tried to cook in the Heartslabyul kitchen. There probably wouldn’t be a kitchen anymore. 

Yet Trey had gone out of his way to trick you into baking a cake while also telling Riddle that you had left something behind in the first year’s room and that it was his duty to give it back--had he planned all of this from the sidelines and expected it to work?! 

“...no there is a tea party happening. I guess I just--Trey must have not told me about that certain detail.” 

“Well at least we have something to bring now!” 

You both look at your cake, the cutting of the strawberries a little sloppy as they somewhat slipped on the rushed icing job you had done. 

“...you know I don’t think anyone will notice if I do this.” 

Riddle’s eyes widen when you grab a spoon and dig into the top of the cake. “Hey--!” 

The spoon presses to his lips as you grin while holding it up to him. “Say ‘ah’” 

Was Crowley sure that you didn’t have any sort of magic? With the way he quickly opened his mouth Riddle would have thought he had been hypnotized. “So?” 

He nods at the taste, smiling when he notices the soft sweetness that came with a good slice of strawberry shortcake. “I--I think we did a really good job.” 

You grin and stand on the heel of your feet as Riddle licked his lips to get any extra whipped cream, eyes going right back to staring at you as you tug on his bowtie and bring him closer. “You got some right...here.” 

The pressure of your hold is light as your lips meet his, his body suddenly going lax as he drops his hold on the knife he had been using before so he could turn his body to meet yours. His hold is immediate, a hand touching your lower back and pressing you a tad closer to him as you both pull back to gauge each other’s reaction.

You are both red as roses, cheeks flushing and hearts beating so fast you were sure you could hear each other’s matching rhythms. 

“...did I get it?” 

He should be pushing you away and apologizing for such a needy display. Riddle hadn’t necessarily spent his time doing anything else besides studying and trying to bring pride to Heartslabyul dorm so this territory was rather new to him. 

“Try again...please.” 

Your lips met his again, this time his hold pulling you into the kiss as you cup his face and let him press your back against the kitchen counter. 

His second year was still starting, why not explore this path a bit more? 

[nowoyas]

Bread and Brownies

Requester: @birds-have-teeth​

A/N: Thank you so much for the request, love! I had a bit of fun with this one <3 I’m sorry it’s so short though aaaaaaaaaa I tried to find anywhere I could add more and I thought it would actually suffer if I tried to add more than this fic needed and I ;-; I’m sorry I love u

Warnings: some eggs were harmed in the making of this fic, some suggestive text but nothing spicier than pepper

Word Count: 1600+

~

"I think you look better like this, I dunno."

Izuku lets out an indignant gasp at the accusation. "And here you were saying I looked perfect before."

You giggle, turning back to the recipe with an eye roll. "Well, yes, but I hadn't seen you in an apron before." You toss your head over your shoulder, winking. "It's a good look for you, hon."

The apron in question is simple, understated. The main part of it is a smooth forest green that matches Izuku's hair, with black straps wrapping around his waist and shoulders and a baby blue pocket over his chest. It's a classic—in looping cursive on his chest reads "kiss the cook", but what makes it so perfect, however, is the smallest personal touch—the shoulder strap is held on by two white clasps in the shape of rabbit heads. The touch is subtle, but you can't help but mentally squeal at how cute he looks.

"Well, maybe I should wear it more often, then," he teases. "Oh, please." You pop up on your tip-toes, kissing him on the nose before shoving a bowl into his arms. "Less flirting, more mixing. You're the big, strong man, mix this up for me while I get out the other ingredients."

"Are we seriously making box mix brownies for your work party?" he asks with a roll of his eyes as he begins mixing the batter.

You snort. "No, the box mix is just the first step. The brownies aren't the show-stopper here, it's what we're putting on them."

"I still can't believe that you tricked us for years into thinking your godlike brownies are just Godiva brand, box mix brownies," Izuku says dramatically, lazily moving the spoon about the bowl.

"They're good, idiot. And the brownies are just an avenue for the good part, which is made from scratch."

"Box mix. My beautiful, wonderful girlfriend makes box mix brownies."

"Izuku, I will literally give you the softest hair known to man if you don't shut up about my family brownie recipe," you tease.

"First I'm not already perfect, and now you're telling me all those compliments on how soft my hair was were lies? Et tu, [name]?" His eyes are covered by his arm as he drapes it over his forehead dramatically.

You raise a single egg in your hand threateningly. "One more word and I crack it on your head."

He's silent for a long moment, meeting your playful glare with his own challenging glint. "How long am I supposed to mix this for?"

"Combined, but not smooth. We love the lumps in this house." You relax your posture a bit, setting the eggs back in their bowl and going back to collecting ingredients for the other things you've planned to bake today.

"Got it. How's this?" He tilts the bowl towards you, crossing your kitchen to lift the spoon out of the batter and show its consistency. You're satisfied with the consistency, but just in case, dip a finger in to taste. The minute your finger's in your mouth and you've nodded your approval, he slowly sets the bowl and spoon on the counter. "...also, you can try to crack an egg in my hair, but that's assuming you can reach it, box mix."

You squawk, reaching for an egg and scrambling after him as he bolts. "Izuku! That's it, get back here! I'll climb you like a tree if I have to!"

Laughter rings through the apartment as you chase Izuku, wielding an egg threateningly in one hand.

"No, no!" he calls over his shoulder. "I give, I give! Just spare me from your eggs-ecution, angel!"

You freeze, nearly dropping your weapon as you try hard not to double over in laughter. "I can be persuaded to let you off, this time, for a fee."

"What fee could I possibly pay in exchange for my life?"

You hum, eyeing him mischievously. "I think you know what I take as bribes by now." You carefully slip the egg into your apron pocket to put away later.

"Remind me?" he says innocently. You roll your eyes and tug him towards you, sealing your lips over his in a sweet, slow kiss. There's a suspicious hint of brownie batter on his lips, and when you pull back, you raise an eyebrow at him.

"Have you been stealing batter when I wasn't looking, mister?"

He grins innocently. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I'm sure you don't. Such an upstanding hero would never lie to me or steal brownie batter." You smile and turn away to go pour the batter into the pan. 

Izuku joins you not long after, wrapping both arms around you from behind and snuggling his face into the back of your neck. "I'm so glad you trust me, sweetheart."

"Yes, yes, I'm very loving and trusting," you tease. "Let me go so I can put this in the oven, dork."

"Nooo," he whines. "You're so huggable. Don't wanna let go."

"Oh my god, you are the worst baking partner. I'm never asking you to join a baking marathon with me again."

"But [naaaaaame]~" he whines into your ear before letting you go. "I love youuuuu." God, you can hear the pout in his voice. 

"I love you too." You roll your eyes with a goofy smile before leaning down to slide the brownie pan in. "Come on, I promised you I'd teach you to make my favorite bread, and if you behave, we can get the first proof started before the brownies are out. Can you set the timer for me, baby? Fifteen minutes."

He nods, determination flashing in his eyes. "We're gonna work together so well you'll have to ask me for help next time." 

You giggle. "Alright, alright, I get it. Let me know when the timer's set."

Izuku salutes you with a grin before dutifully setting about his assigned tasks. The rest of the baking goes as smoothly as it can–amid soft laughter, teasing jokes, and the occasional errant smear of flour, both the brownies and the bread are the best you've ever made them.

~

Bonus:

Later, when the smell of bread wafts through your apartment and the brownies are somehow successfully iced and cooling (despite your goofball's best efforts), you come up behind Izuku, wrapping one arm around him in a soft hug. "Thank you for helping me bake today, Izu."

If a man could purr, he would be. You press a gentle kiss to his back, giggling when you can feel the vibrations as he speaks. "Thanks for teaching me how to make your signature recipes."

Your eyes lock on their target as he speaks, readying yourself as your hand slowly inches toward its goal. "Mhmm. You'll never use the knowledge against me, right baby?"

He chuckles, wriggling around to turn in your arms. You panic, but it's far too late to abort the mission—you pop up on your tip-toes and pull him into a kiss before he can see what you were about to do. He smiles into the kiss, hands landing on your waist and pulling you closer. You peek one eye open to aim for the prize, and finally, finally, it cracks.

Izuku yelps when the first feeling of cold and wet seeps through his hair, yanking himself back in surprise. "Did you actually—[name]!"

In your heart of hearts, you know you should run while you can. Izuku's fast even without his quirk, but if you're quick and act while he's still processing, you can get away. So you bolt, expertly maneuvering your way around your furniture, and you're about to make it into the bathroom to hide when your feet go out from under you and you shriek as Izuku lifts you off your feet effortlessly. 

"You are gonna pay for that," he growls playfully, carrying you into the bathroom and kicking the door shut behind him. He tilts his head forward, and you whine as the egg you'd cracked onto his head slides off and plops onto yours, the yolk breaking from the force of the landing.

"Zukuuuuu," you whine, writhing in his arms as the egg seeps into your hair. "whyyyyyyy?"

He giggles, carefully setting you down. "Now you have to join me in getting cleaned up."

"I would've joined you anyway, jerk!" You roll your eyes as you untie your apron, desperate to get out of your clothes before you have to wash egg out of them. 

"I couldn't take that chance." He looks so damn smug, and god, you'd love to wipe that grin off his face, but you're more worried about stripping at present.

"Hate you," you grumble as you yank your shirt off. You yelp when arms circle your waist from behind, tugging you close as a warm kiss is placed on an egg-free section of your head.

"Love you too, my sweet little box mix."

The moment is sweet for about two seconds. Pretty much up until the moment a drop of egg white drips down onto your now-bare chest, eliciting a shriek at the cold, gross sensation.

"Okay, okay, moment over," you complain, forcing yourself out of your boyfriend's vice grip. "You can be cute when we're in the shower, egghead."

"Mhmm, and you can apologize for cracking an egg in my hair while we're there," he replies, raising a daring eyebrow at you before he strips down, himself. 

You climb in the shower after him, and true to both of your words, he is cute while you're working the egg out of his hair, and you do, in fact, apologize. Whether or not that apology is, how one might say, proper, well, it's one that Izuku accepts wholeheartedly, and isn't that what really matters, in the end?

All Works Taglist: @tooloudarts​ @sapid-rose​ @xxangelpridexx​ @icythotsenpai​@warmchoccymilk​ @wesparklebitch​ @izoodles​ @fujimoribaby​ @my-bnha-things​

[isotuan]

Nutrition (Yoongi x Reader Fluff/Crack)

Genre: Fluff/Crack

Word: 1,634

Summary: Are you a fruit? ‘Cause honeydew you know how fine you look right now?

Note: This is set in Stupid!universe where Y/N and Yoongi are best friends that annoy the fuck out of each other. It was mentioned in the fic how Yoongi had to drag her to the grocery store at some point, and I got INSPIRED. Also, I’m not that witty, these pick up lines and jokes are from the internet, with a bit of iteration to fit the story line. Other than that, I really like this one. Maybe it’s bc I’m equally of a lazyass as Y/N? The banter is really my style... SO GET READY FOR SOME HELLA CRINGE LMAO.

CHECK OUT STUPID (YOONGI X READER FLUFF) HERE

“Can I ride the cart at least?”

“Jesus fuck. For the third time, Y/N.—

��No.”

Y/N grumbled loudly, kicking at the tiny rocks under her her shoes. Yoongi pulled a large cart out of the store’s several rows, figuring that this grocery run would turn out to be quite a big one. 

After countless attempts of convincing Y/N that PostMates and UberEats of grease-drenched Chinese food were not exactly the healthiest option, he had finally dragged her to the local supermarket. That was, after telling her that they were going for frozen yogurt and had ‘accidentally’ made a wrong turn to the store, “so we might as well, right?”

“This is no fun,” Y/N bemoaned as they made their way through the second set of sliding doors.

“When was the last time you’ve step foot in a grocery store?” 

Y/N shrugged, “Last year maybe?”

“Jesus,” he huffed. “I should’ve guessed by that leftover salad rotting in your fridge.”

“It was a good salad, I was saving it for later.”

Yoongi tilted his head, “For six months?”

Y/N puffed out her cheeks and shifted from one foot to the other, avoiding the question. Yoongi knew that Y/N knew herself how bad her eating habit was. She was just too stubborn to admit it, Yoongi would know after all these years. And of course, he was very much expert now at dealing with her stubborn ass. He snorted, “Just stay by the cart, I’ll do the shopping.”

They made their way over to the produce section, but not after Y/N insisting that they should make a pit stop at the snack aisle first. To which Yoongi quickly denied and pulled her away with a tug of her wrist.

Yoongi began strolling around the section. The vibrant colors made each fruit look as if they were little gems and each vegetable look as delectable as ever, Yoongi grabbed a strip of plastic bags and began shopping.

“No, no, no. Not tomatoes!” Y/N ran up behind Yoongi as picked up the bright red fruit. “I hate tomatoes.”

“Well that’s too bad,” Yoongi placed it into a bag along with another. 

“Dickhead,” she hissed.

In defeat, Y/N groaned and dragged her feet off to somewhere else. Yoongi watched her and made sure he could still see her out of his peripheral vision before returning to picking out more fresh produce.  

She likes avocados, he thought to himself. But not too ripe. He took his time picking out the perfect avocado out of the large pile.  

She can’t have mushrooms. Once he ordered had ordered her a stuffed Portabello at dinner which resulted in a night beside the toilet bowl. So he passed them without hesitation.

He gathered stuff he knew well Y/N could eat and stuff he thought she’d be able to tolerate. The produce in the cart quickly piled up with much consideration for each item and researches of recipes Yoongi could (with his utmost culinary skills of boiling an egg) attempt in order to have Y/N at least try something new. He made himself two mental notes: one, when he makes these, have 911 on speed dial (just in case), and two, to search up how the fuck to pronounce “açaí?”

Yoongi was choosing a bunch of spinach with ease when suddenly something popped up in front of him. And just a couple of inches away from hIs nose was a—

A pineapple?

“Hey, baby. Are you a pineapple? ‘Cause you’re one fine-apple.”

“What the hell are you doing?”

Y/N stood next to Yoongi and, still, with a pineapple held to his face, she answered, “I’m picking you up, gorgeous.” 

Yoongi rolled his eyes and swatted the yellow fruit away, “Fuck off.”

“Come on,” Y/N followed Yoongi as he stuffed the bag with spinach and made way back to the cart. “They might be corny, but I think they’re a-maize-ing!”

“I said fuck off,” Yoongi spoke. He pushed the cart over to the dairy section, where he grabbed a carton of milk and scanned the variety of cheese for a possibly healthy option—

“Hey, I know I may be cheesy. But I know you’d want a pizza this,” she gestured to herself. “Or do you prefer the whole pie?”

“Oh, fuck you for that,” Yoongi’s face twisted with distaste before pushing the cart away fast, letting Y/N shuffling behind him to catch up.

“Hey, at least take me on a date first,” Y/N pointed at the shelve of raisins and— Dammit. “But don’t worry I’ll go out with a cute-cumber like you.”

“I hate you,” he grumbled a tried focusing on the recipe he had pulled up on his phone, even he wasn’t processing a single word in front of him. 

“Oh, donut be like that,” she nudged his side. “Anyone would be glazed to hear these.”

“Look, if you want to eat decent food for once,” He turned to face Y/N who trailed behind him. “I have to follow this recipe, so shut—”

“Oh, what’s on the menu, sweetheart?” Y/N tilted her head and pointed back and forth between her and Yoongi. “Is it me-n-u?”

“For fuck’s sake,” he groaned.  

“Because I’ll have whatever you’re having if it means getting those sweet buns of yours.”

Giving up entirely, Yoongi rushed out of the aisle with a hurry, plus, the old couple beside them weren’t giving the two the kindest of looks. He sped towards an open checkout and began loading the conveyor belt Even if he hadn’t gotten all of the things he intended to buy, this was good enough if it meant leaving this shitshow of a stand-up. 

“Can we go to McDonald's after this?” Y/N came up beside Yoongi.

“No—”

“Oh, nevermind. I forgot I already have a McGorgeous right here,” and she poked his side, making him bend the slightest bit. Fuck being ticklish.  

“Yah—”

From the other side of the register, the cashier chuckled and Yoongi snapped his head over to the young lady saying, “You guys are a really cute couple.”

Yoongi’s jaw dropped and he could feel the warmth creeping up at his cheeks, but before he could deny her—

Yoongi felt arms wrap around his torso while he stood frozen with kale in one hand and a bag of oranges in another. Y/N spoke as she hugged Yoongi with a wide grin, “Thank you, at least someone appreciates my jokes.”

She looked up at Yoongi with a snarl. 

Yoongi wondered if she saw his face turn a blush color in the split of a second he took to pry off her embrace with much embarrassment. He also wondered if she heard how fast his heart pounded when she had her face that close to her head. 

He hoped her stupid ass didn’t. 

God, he hoped.

“Why the hell did you do that?” 

“Do what?”

“Run off your smart ass mouth,” Yoongi continued his path towards his car still keeping the space between himself and—

“Oh, I know you were McLovin’ it.”

“Shut up, you fucker.”

After they loaded his trunk, the two got into the car without a second loss of Yoongi's continuous nagging of how publically humiliating the grocery trip that was. 

“I’m never taking you anywhere ever again, you know that right?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Y/N drummed her finger against the dashboard with a lack of interest in what Yoongi had to say. “It’s not like I go out much often anyway.”

It was silent for a while, Yoongi thought about what Y/N had just said and, hell, it was true. You could practically mistake her for a hermit crab. She wouldn’t get out of the house, that was if it wasn’t for Yoongi and school. And he would try his best to visit her often, being the wonderful best friend he was.

“You have to get out more,” Yoongi spoke. 

“I don't see why when I can just sit in the comfort of my bed and watch ‘How I Met Your Mother’ for the fourth time.”  

“That’s not even that great of a TV show.”

“You’re point?” 

“My point is...” Yoongi turned on to the main street. The car came to a stop at a red light, the engine hummed lowly and the radio tunes sounded gently in the background. The sun was about to set and he watched its final golden rays bounce off the hood of his car. The weather was cooling and he could feel the soft breeze entering the car with the windows rolled down. Yoongi glanced over at Y/N in the passenger seat with her legs tucked against her chest, how she always sat. She was busy giggling at whatever was on her phone screen that she hadn't noticed the way the corners of Yoongi lips curved up just the slightest bit. But, that was how it had always been. 

And Yoongi hoped it would stay that way. 

"My point is," Yoongi finally continued, eyes returning back to the road. "Instead of making shitty puns. Don't you want to, I don't know, explore the world or something?"

That same way.

“Do you want to see a picture of the world?”

“What—” Yoongi turned once more although what greeted him was not Y/N but Y/N's phone. The screen illuminated brightly, it was on selfie mode and it was a display of—

“Get it?—"

—’Cause you’re my world?”

That same old stupid, stupid way.