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ihavethedreamies · 6 months

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Peach | Juicy Fruit | Jaemin

Na Jaemin - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~2.5k

Pairing: Jaemin x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Established Relationship, Porn without Plot

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! & F! Receiving/Anal), Anal Play, Sex Toys (Butt Plug, Butterfly Vibrator), Deepthroating/Face-Fucking, Rough Sex, Squirting, Daddy Kink (he calls himself that once), Unprotected Sex (Don’t!!)

Summary: Jaemin isn't too happy his girlfriend doesn't like peaches…

Author's Note: This series was supposed to be of drabbles, at least this is the longest.

This is only vaguely based off of Smoothie…I say this because I got the idea for a fruit theme, but past that its unrelated.

-> Series Hub <-

🍉 Mark 🍉

🍇 Renjun 🍇

🍌 Jeno 🍌

🍒 Haechan 🍒

🍓 Chenle 🍓

🍍 Jisung 🍍

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"You really don't like peaches?" Your boyfriend looked at you, looked utterly dejected at this new information. You sighed, flapping the produce bag so it would open, holding it to him. He dumped the five peaches into the bag he had carefully cradled in his arms and then added two more for good measure. As you put the bag in the cart you shrugged.

"I will eat them sometimes. They just are…weird."

"Weird how?" Jaemin took the cart from your grasp so he could push it for you.

"Why are they fuzzy?" You were a bit ashamed to admit why you disliked them so much. The texture was just so odd, it was like velvet. And you hated velvet too, it was unnatural. You much preferred nectarines, of a similar vein but NOT fuzzy.

"But they are so sweet and juicy…" He stopped to send you a mischievous look, "like you." He booped your nose with his finger then continued on, leaving you staring after him in disgust.

"Why do I love you?" You mumbled, trudging after him.

"Because I'm sweet and juicy too." He replied way too casually. You rolled your eyes and you two continued to shop, eventually getting the canned food. You grabbed a couple of different things, and you watched him put a can of pre-cut peaches in.

"We're buying fresh ones." You took it back out so he would put it back.

"These aren't fuzzy, maybe you'll like these." Jaemin tipped the can back and forth in your face, putting it in the cart once again. They weren't expensive, so you just let it happen. In the candy isle, you looked for your favorite kind and he came over with some Japanese brand of chewy candies, and they were peach flavored.

"Seriously?"

"I will convince you to like something peach. Don't make me get the Crush soda!" He pointed at you, finger close but not touching your forehead. Sighing you dropped the issue, finishing shopping then going back home. You sat at the counter eating some chips as he put the rest of the groceries away, he wouldn't let you help. He said it was because you were too short to reach everything, but he really just liked spoiling you. When he was done, he brought over the bag of peaches, setting each one on the counter in a row, smallest to largest.

"What the hell are you doing?" You asked, not sure you wanted to know the answer. He didn't answer, taking the can of peaches, opening it, and placing seven of the slices on a paper plate. In front of each peach, he put one of the candies.

"What. Are. You. Doing?" You reiterated and he held up his hand, telling you to wait.

"If you eat a certain number of each one, I will do different things for you."

"Like what?"

"What do you think, baby girl?" He leaned on the counter, smirking and you shuffled in your seat under his intense gaze. Clearing your throat, you closed the chip bag and shoved them to the side.

"Alright. What are they?"

"One candy equals one minute of making out." He pointed at each one. Jaemin moved to the slices on the plate.

"One is I'll let you ride my thigh." You nodded for him to continue.

"Two, I'll get you off with my fingers. Three, your vibrator. Four I'll let you suck me off at the same time. Six, I'll cum in your mouth, and all seven I'll fuck your face." He listed off, recognizing the look on your face with each level. He knew you too well. You swallowed hard and he flashed a devilish grin.

"Okay, what about those." You nodded toward the full fruits. He held one up.

"If you only eat one of these, I'll have you sit on my face. If you do all the other ones, plus one of these…" He drifted off, trying to keep his face flat, but he was still smirking. Your eyes followed his hand as he put the fruit down and pulled a bottle out of his pocket you had no idea was there. He set it down, the fluid inside was a peachy color…

"I'll use this." Jaemin leaned back against the counter opposite the island as you looked at the bottle.

"Real original. Peach flavored butt lube…" You sighed, but your cunt clenched at the thought. You had been talking about experimenting…

"Okay, deal." You agreed, holding your hand out to shake and he grinned.

"You sure, baby?"

"We'll see." You shrugged, trying to stay nonchalant. You were a little nervous, the last time you had canned peaches, you gagged at the slimy texture. The candies weren't too worrying, the artificial flavor was probably quite different from real peaches. He took you hand and shook it, leaning back again, nodding for you to start. Unwrapping the first gummy, you slid it into your mouth, the sugar decorating the outside rough on your tongue as your teeth sank in. It really wasn't too bad, though you wouldn't go out of your way to buy any.

"One minute." You started, unwrapping the next gummy. After you had chewed and eaten all seven, Jaemin smirked, coming around the island, and pulling off the stool to him. As he brought you to and settled on the couch, he set a timer for seven minutes, cracking some joke about seven minutes in heaven, then hauled you down onto his lap. He groaned exaggeratedly as he pulled you down to seal your lips with his, tongue already snaking its way into your mouth. Your head swam as Jaemin kissed you, he really was too good at it. You felt a bit of saliva drip down your chin, he was rough and noisy. You both were sucking air in harshly through your noses since you couldn't use you mouths, but not wanting to cut short the seven minutes in any way. When his phone alarm went off, his hand buried in your air and forced you to pull back from the kiss. You were both panting, but you were way more than him, with that stupid cocky grin on his ridiculously attractive face. With ease, he stood, you still on his lap. This forced you to wrap your legs and arms around him with a yipe and he went back to the kitchen, setting you on the island counter. He slid the plate over to you, grabbing a spare plastic fork and handing it over. This was more nerve wracking for you. You pondered if literally swallowing the slices whole would be less skeevy than chewing them since they got kind of rubbery in the can. Taking the first piece, you brought it to you lips, cringing at the taste of the syrup they put in the can to keep them the right texture. Sliding it in, the slippery texture made you gag slightly, so you just bit it in half, then swallowed both pieces. Thinking of it like a medication pill made it go down easier, since those weren't supposed to be appetizing.

"Thigh." He recited, stepping forward even further, standing between your legs where you sat on the counter. You swallowed again, making sure the pieces were done and then proceeded to do it again. The flavor wasn't too bad, but the texture was still unpleasant.

"Fingers." Another, swallowing both halves.

"Vibe."

"My cock." He placed his thumb over your lip, swiping a bit of the syrup away.

"My cum." You licked you lips that time, swallowing hard to get the rest of the sixth piece down. When you finally ate the last slice, he smiled deviously, running his index finger down your throat, as if following the fruit as you swallowed it. Before you could do anything yourself, he pulled away, dashing to the bedroom, coming back out with your butterfly vibrator. He came back over, pulling your butt to the edge, running his hand up your thigh and under your skirt. You shifted so he could flip it up, smiling at your pink panties. He pulled them to the side, your slick letting the silicone head of the small vibrator slide in easily. You shivered a bit as he got it all in and let your underwear settle back in place, the wings of the bottom of the toy cupping your whole cunt. He helped you off the counter, and you got on your knees in front of him. As you pulled his hard cock out of his sweat pants, you whined, lapping up the drop of precum beaded at his head. Jaemin smirked, holding the remote for you to see, then turning it on. Your breath hitched as he increased the intensity, you squatted further so the base of the toy hit the floor, allowing you to press it into your more. Opening your mouth wide, you sat like a good girl as he took his cock in his hand, leading it in. Listening to you breathe roughly through your nose, he kept going, filling your throat with his cock. Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, loving the feeling of your throat trying to accommodate but not gag. Jaemin just held his cock there, your nose pressed to his groin, your hips rutting against your toy. When he could tell you needed to breathe, he pulled his hips back enough to allow you respite, then started to thrust his hips. Every fifth thrust, he shoved his cock as deep as he could, his palm laying over your throat feeling it stretch with his girth. He groaned loudly, he always did.

"Fuck, baby girl~" Your eyes were watering, tears flowing over your cheeks, breaths harsh through your nose and he knew you were close like him. His thumb hit the button the remote again and at the new intensity, you hit your climax, your moan around his cock helping him finish as well. You nearly sobbed as hot, thick spurts of his cum went straight down your throat. It seemed to never end, and your vision blurred from lack of air. Jaemin noticed and pulled halfway out, a few small spurts of cum still leaving his cock, then pulled out completely so you could suck in oxygen. His cock was a mess of saliva and release. Panting from where you squatted on the floor, you watched him shut the toy off, sighing in relief, and he picked up the full peach that time.

"Undress and get on the bed." He ordered and you scrambled to do so, sliding the toy out and throwing it in the bathroom sink. You slid your clothes off and sat at the end of the bed like a good girl, he came in not even a minute later, only in his pants and holding the peeled and cut fruit on a plate in his hand. Setting it down next to you, he went to the nightstand and got the plug you had bought last week.

"Start." You hadn’t made good on the deal yet, but he knew you would. When you picked up the first piece, you were relieved it wasn't nearly as slimy or sticky as the canned stuff, but you were kind of full from the previous parts, as well as what you swallowed of Jaemin's release. You were feeling impatient, so you scarfed it down, shocking him a bit, but you were licking the last of the juice off your fingers when he came to stand in front of you. He had given you the smaller one luckily, so you didn't have much to eat.

"Roll over, get on your knees." He smacked your ass lightly and you crawled up the bed, doing so, face on the sheets, butt in the air. He grinned, your slick folds had dripped down over your pucker. He opened the cap of the bottle, you shivered when the slightly cold fluid hit your rim. You had expected the tip of his finger, or even the end of the plug, but you gasped when instead, his tongue ran around your back entrance. It was peach flavored not just scented.

"Fuck, 'Min." It was an odd sensation, but not totally unwelcome. He noted that the lube had a very artificial taste, he much preferred the real thing, but if it was you he eating instead, that was fine. After a few minutes, he pulled his face away, licking his lips, then picked up the plug.

The toy was pretty small, but he still slathered it in lube, as well as your rim. He watched the muscle flutter around the silicone, and you whined a bit.

"Breathe." He coached and slid the plug into your ass. Your breath hitched, then you sighed and relaxed once it was in.

"How's that, baby girl?" Jaemin stroked the skin of your ass cheek with his thumb, your cunt visibly fluttering.

"W-weird." You admitted, and he hummed.

"Jaemin~" You practically squealed when the head of his dick ran through your slick folds, but he was taking his take actually starting to press in.

"Please!" You wanted to cry, needing him and so he relented, sliding home. You let out a slight choking noise, the burn of his cock stretching you so fast and hard, along with the plug in your ass, was overwhelming. He was nice enough to let you adjust to the new sensation of having something in both wholes, but it always took a while for you to get used to his cock. From behind he reached the deepest part of your cunt, and your tight gummy walls gripped to every ridge and vein of him. There was no verbal warning for him starting, but you saw his hands rest on and grip the head board, prompting you to do the same with the sheets.

"Fuck, princess!" He laughed in glee, not trying to be gentle in any sense, bullying his cock into your pussy as hard as he could, like he was rearranging your insides. Each thrust took your breath away, making you nearly hyperventilate. He was spewing the sweetest filth, praising you and your cute little cunt. How well you took his fat cock, and how much he loved fucking you stupid. You could barely babble in reply, tiny orgasms washing over you over and over.

"J-J-Jaemin-!" You dug your teeth into the pillow, the next wave coming was much stronger.

"Okay, baby girl, cum for daddy~" He chuckled as you whimpered, another hand thrust, and he was even taken away by your orgasm. Your cunt clenched even tighter around his cock than he thought possibly, spurts of slick spilling from your cunt, dripping and puddling onto the sheets. It was too much, too hot, that he made a few more shallow thrusts, then spilled inside you. You milked him dry, it felt like, and it made an even bigger mess. He sat inside you till he had nearly softened all the way, letting you calm down some and slowly pulling out. His finger circled the base of the plug, the end of it had a little emoji peach on it.

"You like peaches now, princess?”

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Master-Master List

NCT Master List

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moni-logues · 2 years

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Kintsugi 1

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 5.5k

Content: no real warnings for this chapter, reader makes a couple of jokes about killing herself/dying

A/N: ahhhhh it's finally here!!!!!! This story has been going around and around in my head since last summer and I am so excited (and nervous lol) to finally be posting it! Unlike with AFL, I am posting this one as I write, so I've only got this first chapter written. I have no planned schedule for updates right now; we're just going to see how it goes.

Enormous thanks to @here2bbtstrash and @btsgotjams27 for beta-ing this one for me and, honestly, turning it from something that was like, fine, to something actually good, that works how I want it to etc.

Masterlist | Chapter Two

Chapter One - Peaches

You wiped your wrist on the tea towel hanging from your waist. The juice from the nectarines and peaches you were peeling was all over: your hands, the counter, threatening to drip onto the floor, to run the length of your arm. You were sticky-sweet and anxious. You tried to focus only on the task at hand, taking it one step at a time. Peel the fruit. Chop the fruit. Place the fruit on the pastry base.

You grabbed the knife with still sticky hands and cut the flesh from the stones. You tried to do this neatly, elegantly, so the resulting slice of fruit would look pretty in the finished pie. Your knife skills were still not really up to it.

“It’s the thought that counts,” you whispered, resigning yourself to the fact that this would be a very ‘home-made’-looking dessert – as was everything you baked.

Peach and nectarine pie. When you first made this as a crumble, almost a year ago, Yoongi tried to call it ‘peachtarine’, but you were not convinced the name worked. It was also nearly a year ago that you and he first met. You would never have imagined that a chance meeting would have given you one of the most important people in your life. There were so many little things that had to happen to put you both in that room on that night. You were grateful that the universe got it together to make it work. You were extremely nervous that you were about to fuck it up.

As you placed the fruit on the pastry in the pie dish, you stared, unseeing, out of the window. The late afternoon sun, dying in the sky, shone bright into your apartment; it highlighted the swirling dust motes in the air, sparkling almost like glitter. The cherry blossoms were falling from the trees as if time were running out. The air was still today so they floated and settled like snowflakes; on windier days, they looked like a blizzard.

It had always felt like such a transitional time. Winter was cold and hard and barren. Not without beauty, but it was dark and difficult and so much easier to hole up in your apartment, hide from the world, forget about sunlight and joy. Then cherry blossoms burst upon the scene, a bright reminder that life still goes on. The trees that had looked desolate and empty now embowered with new life. There were two weeks of blossoms everywhere, inescapable. They swept into doorways, fell into your hair, collected beneath the trees like matching rugs. An enormous burst of life after the bareness of winter. Then they all fell and were gone and the weather swept you up in its warm arms as summer arrived again. You liked the cushion, the ushering in, the fortnight in which you could adjust to the world being beautiful again. It was your favourite time of year.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the beeping of the oven. It had reached its required temperature. You finished placing the fruit and carefully slid the pastry lattice over the top. You brushed everything with egg wash and awkwardly elbowed the oven door open, trying not to get your sticky hands everywhere. You slid it in and set a timer. You washed your hands. You washed the dishes. Now all you had to do was wait.

You stood outside Yoongi’s front door, pie held carefully in your hands, breathing deeply, taking a moment to try to soothe your nerves. It was outrageous, you thought, that you could be this nervous. It was Yoongi. On the other hand, it was Yoongi. It was not every day that you confessed to harbouring romantic feelings for one of your best friends. It was not every day that you ripped yourself open and placed your fluttering heart before them, hoping, praying that they felt the same.

It was not every day, but it was today.

You squared your shoulders, shuffled the pie so it rested on the palm of one hand, and used the other to key in the entry code.

“I’m here!” you called as you strode in and shut the door behind you.

You tidied away your cooking stuff, creating as much space as you could. You stacked the drying dishes and equipment on the rack and your tupperware tubs on top of one another, full of still-steaming food. You looked around the room to see how many people were doing as you were: taking both classes. Home-cooking for beginners and baking for beginners. Just one cog in your wheel of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement.

A good handful of people left, their own tupperware clutched in hands or safely tucked into bags; a few new faces arrived. The last of these entered late, after the teacher had begun. You could see him scanning the room and you wondered for a moment if he was lost, the way he was frowning as if confused, looking almost shifty. But he continued on, walking slowly further back into the room, his eyes darting across the counters, looking for a space.

You waved in his direction to get his attention; the only space left was next to you (and you were doing your damnedest not to take that personally). You made sure all of your things were gathered on your side, not encroaching on his. He flicked his eyes to you and then immediately looked away but did eventually take his place beside you with a small nod.

You guessed he was about your age, maybe a little older, and you wondered what he was doing there. You wondered who he was, who he’d be baking for. His dark hair fell like a curtain across his face, blocking him from view. He tapped one slender finger silently against the countertop.

As you peeled the skins from your nectarines, you could feel him looking at you—not just looking at you, but watching you. You turned your head to look back.

“Are you alright?” you ventured, when it became clear he wasn’t going to say anything.

“Those aren’t peaches,” he said simply.

“Oh, no. No, nectarines.”

“But we’re supposed to be making a peach crumble.”

You shrugged.

“Yeah, but they’re almost the same, aren’t they? Except nectarines are nicer, so I chose them instead.”

His eyebrows drew together in a small frown as he continued to watch you disrobe your fruit.

“Gonna tell on me to teacher or something?” you asked with a laugh and he huffed an exhale in response, the corners of his mouth flickering up for a second in something that might almost have been a smile.

“No. I’m just not sure I agree.”

“Oh, well, in that case...”

You took your knife and cut a slice of nectarine, the blade gliding through as if it were butter. You held the fruit sliver up between you and he took it with his mouth, his lips just grazing over your thumb and finger. You swallowed your tiny gasp and watched his face as he chewed and swallowed. He said nothing, but cut a slice from his own peach and popped that into his mouth. Then he sighed.

“Yeah ok, you’re right. Nectarines are better.”

He turned back to his own station, head straight, looking down at his peaches, doing nothing. He tapped his finger again. You took your two remaining nectarines sitting in their bowl of iced water and placed them in front of him.

“You can use them, if you want.”

He looked at you with another frown.

“But you won’t have enough. You need these.”

You stretched across him and took two of his peaches with a shrug.

“It’s a trade. We can make peach and nectarine crumble.”

He grunted but said no more; he simply picked up his peach from the counter and carried on. After a moment, he grunted again: a small thank you. You turned back to your own fruit and continued peeling.

As you began to cut the flesh from the stones, you became aware that he was mumbling something; you glanced at him to see his head cocked on the side, looking upwards, thinking.

“Peachtarine?” he asked, turning to look at you.

“Huh?”

“Peach and nectarine... Peachtarine. It’s not great but I can’t think of anything better.”

You hummed and thought about it yourself.

“I think you’re right that it is the best option but I’m not sure it’s any better than saying peach and nectarine.”

He chuckled and shrugged.

“I’m sticking with it.”

It was all the encouragement you needed. He started talking to you first, technically. If he didn’t want to talk to you, if he didn’t want to be friends, well, too late, he started it.

“I was a little offended, you know, when I found out the first class was going to be crumble,” you began. “And next week is brownies, did you see? I get that this is a beginners’ class, but is it even possible to get this wrong? No one is going to be impressed by something this simple, are they? And what’s the point of going to so much effort if no one will be impressed?”

He didn’t reply but this did nothing to put you off. He had broken the seal and you were absolutely going to flood him with conversation. It was a relief to finally be talking; you didn’t do well in silence.

“I did the class before this one, too: that’s home-cooking for beginners. I’m useless in the kitchen; my bo- ex-boyfriend would gripe about it all the time. And now he’s my ex so I’m spiteful and bitter and learning to cook so I can show him that I actually do know how to take care of myself, y’know? Not that he’s going to know or care. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since I moved the last of my stuff out of our apartment. He’s really washed his hands of me. Which is fine. I get it. I would have done the same. But anyway, that’s why I’m here. Running on bitterness and spite but it’s better than being dead, I guess, right?”

“Are they the only two options?”

Your head span to him in surprise; you hadn’t been sure was even listening to you.

“I don’t know,” you replied. “Sometimes it does feel like spite is the only thing keeping me alive, yeah.” You laughed, harder than you really wanted to, trying to ward off any tension, to make sure he knew you were just joking. “That and now I’ve paid for these classes so I have to stick around until they’ve finished so I get my money’s worth.”

He nodded as he finished sprinkling the top of his dessert with brown sugar and put it in the oven.

“What about you?” you asked as you did the same. “Why are you here?”

You thought he wasn’t going to answer because he was quiet for some time.

“The women my girlfriend works with apparently all have husbands who bake them things to take into the office. I was asked why I didn’t.” He shrugged. “I don’t bake. Never learnt. Until now I suppose.”

“Why do you have to be the one to bake things? If she wants to take stuff to the office, can’t she make it?”

He laughed lightly, a little exhale of disbelief.

“No, that’s not the point. The point is that she wants to go into the office and show off that I’ve made her something. I never do anything for her apparently.”

If you had said it, the bitterness would have been strong enough for him to taste in his own mouth, but he didn’t sound bitter. You thought he sounded resigned. Maybe even sad.

“Yeah, but she could just make them and lie, tell them that you did it.”

“Oh, no, she would never do that. I’m not sure she’s ever picked up a spatula in her life.”

You bit your tongue because, until a couple of hours ago, the same could have been said of you. You were aware that you had been spoilt and were embarrassed that you were a grown adult who didn’t know how to cook even the simplest dishes, but, hey, at least now you were trying. And you never made your ex bake things for you or even cook if he didn’t want to. You could at least manage instant ramen and frequently did (which somehow seemed to annoy him more than having to cook for you). You wouldn’t have starved without him—you hadn’t starved without him. The bitterness you felt about your break-up leaked through and you felt unreasonably annoyed by this woman you didn’t know. You were broken up with for being an incompetent adult and here she was, with a boyfriend who was learning to bake so she could what? Keep up with the Joneses?

“So, neither of you can bake but you’re the only one here even though she’s the one who wants the baked goods. Hmm... Make it make sense.”

He huffed and you couldn’t tell if it was amusement or annoyance, then he ducked down to peer pointlessly into the oven. You took that as a sign to change the subject, so you thrust your hand out to him and introduced yourself. He looked at your hand warily and then took it.

“Yoongi.”

“Nice to meet you, Yoongi. Sorry your girlfriend is a dick.”

You knew you shouldn’t have said it. It was rude, for one thing. And you weren’t 100% sure it was true, for another. But your tolerance for romantic partners – even ones you didn’t know, had never met – was at an all-time low and, really, who gives a shit what people at work think? Who makes their boyfriend commit to twelve weeks of classes just so you can take a cookie to the office? You didn’t expect a response – a grunt; maybe he would turn his back on you; there was even a chance he might argue and defend his girlfriend’s honour.

He laughed.

“Yeah, me too.”

You weren’t able to stop the bark of laughter that rushed out and you felt a sudden rush of warmth for this stranger, this new friend.

“Well, hey, if you do want to break up with her anytime soon, there is plenty of spite to go around. Misery loves company; you know that, right? And I am fucking miserable.” You kept your expression bright to try to counter-balance the admission and chuckled lightly when he just looked at you.

His mouth was a flat line, expression serious, then it softened and his mouth twitched up at the corners. You were struck by how pretty he was when he let his face open, even a little.

“Here she is! Michelin star chef extraordinaire!”

“Shut the fuck up, Teddy.”

“Ouch, someone’s crabby this morning. Did it not go well?”

You plopped heavily into your seat and shook the mouse to wake your computer.

“No, it went fine. It went well, actually. I’ve made a friend.”

“Oh, have you now? A real friend or is this like every woman you ever meet on a night out where you sa-”

“Yes, a real friend and he’ll be a better one than you, I’m sure.”

“You are crabby! Are you going to fuck this guy or what? Sounds like you need it!”

“Kim Taehyung!”

“What? I haven’t said it for ages! So, let me tell you again: you just need a good rebound-fuck. Is he not attractive?”

You pretended to ignore him as you logged in and pulled up your emails.

“Not attractive, bummer.”

“I didn’t say that.” Your defence was quick, too quick.

“So you do want to fuck him! This is progress; I like it.”

“Will you stop? I don’t need to fuck anyone, ok? I don’t want to.”

“Are you sure? Because if you need it, if you really want me to-” Taehyung scooted closer to you and turned you around, resting his hands on the armrests of your chair, looking at you with his sweetest, most earnest and angelic face. “-I will fuck you.”

You cried out and pushed him away as he cackled.

“I would literally rather kill myself than sleep with you.”

He clutched at his heart as if you had stabbed him and replied in song.

“Don’t go breaking my heart!”

You wanted to resist. You wanted not to sing back to him. You wanted, for once, to not be one of the two most annoying people in the office. But you can’t always get what you want.

“I couldn’t if I tried!” you trilled back.

“Oh, honey, if I get restless-”

“Baby, you’re not that kind.”

You grinned at each other, knowing exactly what was coming next.

“Oooh ooh! Nobody knows it!” you belted together.

“When I was down-”

“I was your clown!”

“Wow, someone’s got that Friday feeling!” your director called as she walked from her office at the end of the room. She clocked you with a raised brow. “Might have known it would be you two.”

“Oooh ooh! Nobody knows it!” you cried after her before collapsing into giggles and, eventually, turning back to your work.

“I’m serious, though,” you said. “I’d rather kill myself than sleep with you.”

“The feeling is entirely mutual, darling, as you already know. My point is that you should-”

“Sleep with someone, anyone, yeah I know.”

“I’m not trying to push you to do something you don’t wan-”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing!”

“No! Alright, maybe a little, but I think it would be good for you. We’ve talked about this and I dropped the subject but now you’ve met someone new, someone who might be a good... distraction, rehab, palate cleanser.”

“That’s a gross way to talk about a person, Teddy.”

“Not if they’re on the same page. Not if it’s mutually beneficial. I know you feel like you aren’t ready for it but, honestly, I think you’re going to feel that way until you do it and, once you have, you’ll realise you were worrying over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. I have slept with one person in the last four years. It’s not nothing to... to open yourself up and... display yourself in front of someone, some stranger.”

“You’re taking it too seriously; you don’t have to open up. You don’t even have to take your clothes off: go out in a short skirt, pull your underwear down, and away you go!”

“That is so crass. I have more class than that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

You sighed. A part of you knew Taehyung was right. You just had to get back on the horse. Like riding a bike. Maybe. But your bike had changed since the last time someone new saw you naked. And you didn’t really want to just fuck someone, anyone. You wanted someone to love you. And that felt about as distant a possibility as going to the moon.

It was Friday and you did not want to be made miserable before 10am.

“Besides,” you said, hoping it would put a stop to the conversation. “He has a girlfriend.”

“Ah, alas.”

“Though I don’t think he’s happy with her.”

“Oh dear. I think I see where this is going. Please do not interfere in this man’s private life.”

“I’m not going to! I’m just saying! I called her a dick and he laughed.”

“I’m sorry, you called this stranger’s girlfriend a dick? And you expect me to believe you’re not about to interfere? Just because you are bitter and alone does not mean everyone else has to be.”

“Hey!”

“I’m just saying: you’ve met this guy and you’ve known him for all of two hours and you’ve already decided his relationship is trash and his girlfriend is a dick and you would love for them to break up so that you aren’t the only one who got dumped, so that you know other people are also miserable and bitter and you can lean into those feelings rather than facing the fact that you are heartbroken and lonely.”

You dropped your head into your hands and groaned.

“Didn’t fancy giving me some sugar with that pill? It’s Friday.”

“So come out with me tonight and I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Buy me three.”

“Two.”

“Deal.”

Yoongi was late to the second class, too. You had deliberately saved the space next to you and you waved him over as before. As before, he barely glanced at you before taking his place. As soon as the teacher had finished talking, you started. You were not trying to interfere in his personal life; you were not trying to fuck him. You were just trying to be his friend.

“Did your girlfriend like the crumble?” was your opening gambit. “Not exactly something she could take into the office to share out, but still.”

There was a pause before he answered, just long enough that you thought he wasn’t going to.

“She didn’t eat any.”

You immediately dropped your sieve and turned to him.

“What do you mean she didn’t eat any?”

He shrugged.

“She said she didn’t want any.”

You blinked, buffering, trying to understand.

“I don’t understand; I thought she wanted you to take this class?”

He shrugged again.

“Well, she’ll have something to take to the office this week, if she wants it... Everyone loves brownies,” you offered, conciliatory, sensitive to Taehyung’s accusation that you might be interfering, trying to find the benefit of the doubt to give this woman.

There was no response from Yoongi, so you dropped the subject. It wasn’t often that you were lost for words, that you didn’t know what to say, but your mind was blank.

Well, it wasn’t blank, but you were not going to actually say any of the things that you were thinking. That his girlfriend was taking advantage of what was clearly a loving nature; that she was ungrateful; that he should stop trying so hard to please someone who didn’t seem to care about him; that their relationship seemed unequal and he was on the losing side. All sorts of things that you didn’t really know, that were clearly products of your own situation, things you were projecting onto this stranger and his girlfriend when you had no right to do so. You might have been right, but you might have been wrong and, even if you were right, there’s a time and a place for telling people the truth they might not want to hear. This was not it.

Yoongi cleared his throat as he gently tapped his sieve.

“So, what illicit ingredient have you brought this time?”

His smile was small and unsure; yours in return was wide, bright, all teeth.

“I simply do not know what you are talking about.”

“You don’t expect me to believe you’re just going to... follow the recipe?”

“You can believe whatever you like, sir. I’m just here to learn.”

As you spoke, you dipped your hand into your bag and retrieved a box of toasted walnuts. Not in the recipe. But, as far as you were concerned, a brownie without nuts was an inferior brownie and you were not about to make inferior brownies.

Yoongi chuckled.

“If you will look here,” you instructed, gesturing to the box, “you will note that this is really, far too many for just one person to use...”

Yes, you had bought extra walnuts just in case Yoongi showed up again, just in case he took the space next to you, just in case he wanted them. You had told yourself that it made sense to buy the bigger box; it was better value; you would have plenty left over to make the brownies again sometime... But you couldn’t deny that you were thrilled; he was here and talking to you and making jokes as if you really were real friends. You could already imagine yourself telling Taehyung tomorrow, smug and obnoxious because you had made a real friend like you said.

Yoongi grimaced.

“My girlfriend’s allergic to nuts.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

An awkward silence arrived and you did your best to shrug it off.

“Maybe next time, then. I’ll make a note.”

You noticed that he looked apologetic and you tried to take it in your stride. It wasn’t personal; it was biological. You weren’t trying to interfere in his personal life and that included not poisoning his girlfriend. It was fine.

You moved the box back onto your side and returned your attention to sifting flour and cocoa powder.

“So how did you like the crumble? I assume you at least tried it.”

“Yeah, it was nice.”

“I thought it was pretty good,” you replied. “The first portion anyway. The second was pretty good, too, but by the time I finished it, I honestly never wanted to see a peach or nectarine ever again!”

“You ate all of it?” His eyebrows raised on his forehead in disbelief, an incredulous grin on his face.

You blushed.

“I mean... not all at once. It took me a couple of days... You might say I could have invited friends over to share it out and you would be right, but I simply did not do that.”

He laughed.

“I did do that. They liked it, too.”

“Oh wow, look at you, Mr I’ve Got Friends Who Eat My Desserts. Some of us accidentally choose to eat an entire dessert by ourselves, ok? No need to rub it in.”

He laughed again and you felt the glow of his approbation like the warmth of sun on your skin. This wasn’t why you were taking the classes—you really did want to learn to cook, to self-improve, to become a fully competent adult—but you knew that, even if you dropped out tomorrow, if you had one more friend to show for it, it would all have been worthwhile.

You chatted as you baked; you tried hard to curb your impulse to steamroll over the conversation, to motormouth your way out of this new friendship. Yoongi was sweet and a little shy and you didn’t want to scare him off, didn’t want to annoy him, didn’t want your desperation to seep out of your pores and cling to him like smoke. No one likes stinking of smoke.

At the end of the class, you carefully scooped a still-warm brownie from your pan and wrapped it in tin foil; you put it to the side while you cleaned and tidied everything away, then you handed it to Yoongi.

“Your girlfriend might have to suffer inferior brownies, but you don’t.”

He blinked in surprise, his eyebrows slightly raised, his mouth slightly open, and looked down at your offering.

A sudden panic hit you.

“Unless she’s like, freakishly, deathly allergic to them and will die if you kiss her having eaten nuts or something.”

You shifted your arm back slightly and looked at him questioningly.

“Or, obviously, if you just don’t want it, you don’t have to take it. I just thought- since-...”

He reached out for the brownie, almost tentative, as if he was expecting you to whip it out of his reach at the last second. You didn’t. He took it. He placed it on top of his things and his mouth twisted as he looked at it.

“Thank you,” he said, his face more of a frown than a smile. Then he nodded, took his things, and left.

You weren’t sure what to make of the exchange. You felt like you had got something wrong, but you didn’t know what. It had all been going so well; you couldn’t possibly have ruined it, could you?

You did not gloat to Taehyung the next day. You kept it to yourself, a small needle of anxiety pricking you whenever you thought of that stupid brownie. A bigger needle pricking you when you thought about your next class.

Your anxiety was proven right. Yoongi was late again – as, apparently, he always was – and you began talking again as soon as your teacher had stopped but, this time, Yoongi didn’t talk back.

“How did the brownies go down? Did she take them into the office?”

Silence.

“Obviously, I can only speak to my own, superior, nut-filled brownies, but I was very happy with them. So happy, in fact, that—can you guess what I’m about to say? Yes, I absolutely ate them all myself!”

You laughed, a little too loud, heat prickling up the back of your neck and onto your cheeks as he still said nothing. You swallowed hard and tried to suppress the anxiety which was bubbling in your stomach.

“I tell a lie,” you continued, self-conscious but not yet defeated. “I did take one in to work on Friday for my best friend. He pretended they were disgusting but that’s just what he’s like; he ate the whole thing so it can’t have been that bad! He actually a- oh, wait, hold on...”

You had been operating on autopilot which for someone with almost no baking know-how or experience was very dangerous. You grabbed the recipe to double-check what you were doing and the silence felt stifling around you. You wished he would say something, anything, even if it was telling you to shut the fuck up. A better person might have given up. A better person might have understood his signal that he didn’t want to talk and listened to it. You were not a better person. The sick need for his approval crawled its way into your throat and spoke for you, made a ventriloquist dummy out of you. Even as you wished, yourself, that you would be quiet, even as you heard yourself, the cheer in your voice more and more forced as his resolute silence strengthened, thickened, grew around him like briars, warding you off, threatening, you carried on.

“He asked me to make them again, actually. I told him where to go because I originally asked him if he’d take this class with me, y’know, for moral support, after my break-up and everything—he is supposed to be my best friend, after all—but he refused, point blank. So, naturally, I told him he would not be getting to sample any of the delicacies I would be making. Then I went and gave him a brownie! Because, of course, I’d forgotten that I’d sworn not to...”

You managed to monologue your way through half the class, but once the fairy cakes were in the oven and the utensils and bowls washed and dried and you had nothing left to do with your hands, you gave up. You sat on your stool and leant on the counter, counting the seconds, trying to will the shame and embarrassment away. You were sticky with nervous sweat, hot and flushed, flustered. You were embarrassed and, in turn, embarrassed by your embarrassment; he clearly didn’t care, so why did you? You couldn’t answer the question except to say that you just did.

The silence was thick and crushing around you until the end of class. Yoongi packed his things with lightning speed and was the very first to leave the room. You took your time, fussing and dawdling, and were the last. It shouldn’t have crushed you. It shouldn’t have mattered at all. You didn’t know each other. You could just as easily have gone the rest of your life never meeting him.

But it did matter to you. It did hurt. Especially because last week had been so nice, so promising; last week, he had felt like your friend. And then you’d gone and spoilt it all, but you didn’t even know how. You had wracked your brain all week, but you couldn’t think of a single reason that that brownie should have ruined everything. It didn’t make sense; it made you feel lost and stupid and exposed and embarrassed and a thousand feelings that you had shoved aside in the months since your break-up.

You reminded yourself every day of all the things your therapist was trying to teach you: it’s ok if people don’t like you; you can’t please everyone; please for the love of god stop catastrophising your entire life (that one you paraphrased). But it didn’t really help. You were taking this one very personally and nothing was going to stop you.

[21:17] Teddy 🐻: Not everyone wants more friends. Some people just want to get through the day and make it home.

[21:18] You: Maybe.

Your phone buzzed again and Taehyung was calling you. You rolled your eyes; that man was incapable of having one single conversation over text.

“Besides which,” he began, not even pausing to say hello. “You said he might be having relationship problems. Maybe he’s having problems at work. Or family issues. Or personal issues! Or all of the above! You don’t know what’s going on in someone else’s life. Maybe he doesn’t want to spill his guts to a total stranger.”

“He doesn’t have to spill his guts!” you protested and you could hear the whine in your voice. “I just want to be friends.”

“And he doesn’t.”

Chapter Two

#yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi fic #bts x reader #bts angst #bts fic #yoongi #bts

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rarepears · 3 months

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So, don't know if you remember that anon that read your fic without being in any fandom (GOT and Solo Leveling)

I'm, of course, a Sung Jinwoo kinnie, his simp, he's my babygirl and I love him, so of course I read it even if I don't like GOT (too much dead, and I always choose the ones fated to die, one season was enough to understand that I was better far away from them)

But I have to admit that half of the time I'm lost with Jinwoo.

Some dragons danced? LOL sounds important, too bad I don't know what it means

All the religious stuff? Who knows what it means, me no, for sure, I also don't care, brain empty just here for the laughs

What I'm saying, is that those people are unnecessary complicated

(That thing they say about Jinwoo doing something with the children and Kevan saying that he shouldn't do that with Tywin- the chapter of the tea party - yeah, Jinwoo and I are equally lost here. What did he do?)

Of course Jinwoo is lost, I'm lost half of the time, and I know what is happening so yeah

Jinwoo isn't just a himbo (he is, but that's not the problem here) that doesn't understand the situation, it's just we need a lot of knowledge to understand how they say hello

Poor Jinwoo, he just wants a meal and looks at the cute lord and ends up marrying and adopting three little psychotic kids (mission failed successfully ig)

Poor Jinwoo 😞

But hey, he gets to eat all the guilt free almonds. He still remembers when almonds were affordable and everywhere. Now though? Almonds are starting to be easy to buy again but it's still so expensive - but not as expensive as it was 10 years ago. Thank goodness for Westeros still growing all the fancy nuts.

(Hey, is there any fic that addresses like the impact of Kamish taking out most of the West Coast of the US?? Because like California produces 80% of the world's supply of almonds. As for pistachios, that's nearly half of the world’s supply and 99% of US production. California is the fourth-largest producer of wine in the world – ranked only behind Italy, France, and Spain. The state produces over 80% of all stone fruit produced in the US, including 70% of the country’s peaches, 95% of its plums, and over 99% of its nectarines.

California is the largest producer of vegetables in the US, accounting for more than 40% of the country’s vegetable acreage. The state has also consistently led the country in vegetable exports, accounting for 52% of the US total during the 2020-21 season. California farmers produce almost all of the US' artichokes, broccoli, cauliflower, garlic, celery, spinach, and carrots. Other vegetables grown include asparagus, bell peppers, sweet potatoes, squash, cucumbers, and snap peas. California’s unique climate also lends itself to year-round lettuce production; more than 70% of the lettuce grown in the United States comes from California.

Anyways, California being burned down and made inhabitable is insane and the ripple effects are everywhere. WHERE IS THAT FIC?!

I guess you can also say that this is spoilers for why I have Jinah buying all the shit and clothes. She REMEMBERS that money means nothing when all it takes is one gate to wipe out nearly an entire world's supple of almonds. Then it doesn't matter how much money you have; there was no almonds for anyone to eat.)

#tywin lannister x sung jinwoo #sung jinwoo #solo leveling #game of thrones #tywin lannister

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missellaneousworks · 1 year

Text

Excerpt from "Sundae Jack" - Fluff n' Smut SDJ Fic

Something is Wrong With Sunny Day Jack is a +18 ONLY community. Therefore, the content of this fic is NOT APPROPRIATE for anyone under 18+ and should not be engaging with it.

Very self-indulgent Ella (OC) x Sunny Day Jack fic. The full version can be found on AO3 HERE.

Below is just a taste before things get spicy~

Something is Wrong With Sunny Day Jack is a +18 ONLY series. MINORS DNI.

Oh yeah. It had been that kind of a week for Ella.

The tub of ice cream landed on the counter with an unceremonious clunk, followed by the rest of the ice cream fixings. Strawberries, bananas, chocolate fudge syrup, and whipped cream. After a whole week of work, paying bills, having her hot water shut off for two days due to a water main breaking…. She needed to treat herself. So after a horrible week, Ella went to the store with a little extra cash she had left over and got herself the full sundae spread!

Jack’s head poked out of the bedroom as he was finishing up folding laundry. “Welcome back, Sunshine! Whatcha got there?”

“My salvation,” Ella remarked with satisfaction. “I decided to take some of your advice about treating myself after a rough week.”

In the not-too-far past, Ella would usually turn to a nice bottle of wine and a bubble bath to relax and unwind. But while walking down the frozen dessert section in the grocery store earlier, she found a brand of ice cream she hadn’t seen in years. Normally, she would sadly pass by before she could change her mind, but today of all days she figured why not? Besides, Jack would probably appreciate a little sweet treat, too!

“Anything I can do to help?” Jack’s ever-cheerful voice inquired helpfully.

“Actually, yeah! Can you slice up the strawberries and a banana?”

After retrieving the cutting board and knife, Jack began to cut the fruit into thin, even pieces, humming a melody that Ella didn’t quite recognize, but was sure she heard it before. “You know, most people get cherries with their sundaes. I like the fact that you bought strawberries, though!”

“Eh heh, yeah… cherries remind me too much like cough syrup. I know they’re already cherry flavored, but still… I like strawberries more.”

“Blueberries are also great!”

“No kidding, Mr. Blue-Haired-Clown-Sir.” Ella teased back.

“Pfft, okay, okay, that one was obvious.”

“A little,” Ella giggled. As she removed the ice cream tub’s lid and began to scoop the into the bowl. “You know, I’m also a fan of peaches and nectarines.”

“Those sound tasty! Maybe we can buy some next time. Can never have to much fruit for your diet.”

“Not unless they go bad because I don’t eat them in time.”

“That's what you have me, here for, Sunshine,” Jack said triumphantly as he finished cutting the fruit, quickly washing the knife and setting it into the sink drainer.

“…to eat the fruits I don’t like?” Ella innocently blinked up a Jack, leaning into his side slightly.

Jack chuckled and shook his head. “No, silly. To make sure you stay happy and healthy! So we can keep having ice cream dates together~”

“Hmmm! A fine point, Mr. Sunny Day.”

“You know what they say, an apple a day keeps the doctor away! So it’s important to keep you in pear-fect health!”

The silence was incredibly loud as Ella slowly, deliberately turned towards Jack. “…honey. May I remind I am armed? With an ice cream scooper?!”

Jack didn’t even attempt to hold back his laughter. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I just think you’re one in a melon.”

“I know where you sleep.”

“I should hope so,” now the clown was turning the tables again on Ella, his voice lowering an octave as he came up behind Ella and wrapped his arms around her waist. “It’s right next to you, after all.”

A pleasurable shiver ran up Ella’s spine as she felt Jack’s breath across the back of her neck and shoulder. Subconsciously leaning back onto Jack’s body, Ella almost forgot about the ice cream sundae, at least until she accidently knocked over the open jar of chocolate syrup and got all over the counter.

“Ah, shit!”

“Whoops!” Jack blinked at the mess, a slightly disappointed grimace across his face. However, it didn’t stop him from getting a moist paper towel and dabbing the mess. “I got it, Sunshine, don’t worry!”

“Guess your flirt was too hot for this hot fudge to handle.”

That earned her another chuckle from her lover. “Want to cool down with this sundae?”

“I thought you’d never ask~”

Within moments, Ella and Jack were nestled on her couch with a blanket, and a sizable bowel of the sundae, with two spoons so they could share.

“Um, is this okay? That we’re eating out of the same bowl? I thought about getting one for each of us, but I kind of thought it would be cute to share…”

“I don’t mind, this is perfect, Ella.” Jack reassured with that ever-comforting smile of his.

“I thought it was pear-fect.”

“Ooooh! My own pun thrown back in my face.”

“You’re very handsome face,” Ella shimmied closer to Jack’s side and wasn’t blind to the slight blush on Jack’s face. It was nice to know even he could get bashful at times. Adorable. “Anyways, let’s dig in—”

The abrupt pause in his Sunshine’s delight caused Jack to raise his eyebrow in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“…I feel like… we’re missing something.” Ella thoughtfully tapped the spoon against her lower lip before her head snapped up. “The whipped cream! Oh my god, hang on.”

Her sudden departure to retrieve the forgotten condiment was amusing to Jack. Ella’s strive to get something just right might have been considered a setback to others, but not Sunny Day Jack. He took a lot of time and dedication to improve Ella’s quality of life, and even more important, her happiness.

Which was one thing they had in common. His sunshine worked so hard to make people around her happy, it just showed how kind, creative, and amazing she truly was. Sadly, there were times when Ella overdid it—with the best of intentions, but it was a small secret Jack kept to himself; he felt that most other people didn’t deserve the time of day with Ella. She worked so hard at work, maintaining her home, and her writing, and finding new inspiration to keep her going. As the matter of fact was that Ella persisted despite all of the trouble and heartache she’d been through in the past. And that fact alone made her… special.

It felt good being in her light. Incredibly, warm, light, and loving light. It was only right that her attention shouldn’t be wasted on others who would otherwise dim that precious light.

He’d make sure it would stay that way. Forever, if he had to.

“Got it!” Ella triumphantly scampered back to the living room with the whipped cream. She plopped right next to Jack again, shaking the can before placing a sizable dollop on top of the sundae. “Now, it’s perfect!”

Jack couldn’t help the mischievous smile. “You mean pear—”

“Don’t,” Ella pointed the can directly at Jack’s face in an attempt to look intimidating. Though the scrunch of her noise proved to be cuter than anything. “I am armed and dangerous. Don’t you dare, Jack.”

Jack bit his lip in an attempt to stifle the chuckle building in his chest, but he couldn’t resist teasing her… just a little. He jokingly lifted both of his hands up in mock defeat. “Oh-ho! What do you intend to do now that I’m at your mercy, Sunshine?”

The glimmer in Ella’s eye was unmistakable. Her finger pressed on the tip of the can’s spout, intending to spray just a little on his nose, to make good on her threat, and to be a little coy.

However.

After a moment, nothing came out, and Ella added a little more pressure.

Jack stiffened as a flurry of whipped cream erupted all over his face, covering his left eye, cheek, part of his lip, but most of it did land on his red nose. Jack squeezed his eyes shut when he was met with a barrage of sweetness, not fully registering what exactly happened at first. After one mortifying moment, Jack’s right eye blinked open. Ella’s face blanched from utter embarrassment.

“Pffffft!” Jack’s shoulders began to shake. Then a giggle slipped, followed by a snort.

Ella could only blink back as the silliness of her nerves and the situation itself sunk in. Jack hunched over in an attempt to turn and hide his face, but Ella could clearly see his eyes squeezed shut, and the corners of his mouth failing to suppress a smile.

“Oh my God,” Ella released the beginning of her own breathless laugh before she finally quipped, “Sorry honey,” she genitively wiped the cream from his eye. “Guess I was the one who blew their load prematurely, huh?”

Jack guffawed and doubled over with a shocked laugh. “ELLA!”

It broke the damn that held back Ella’s jovial laughter as she hunched over while cupping Jack’s face. “Hey, first time for everything, am I right?”

“You’re t-too much for me, sunspot!” Jack managed to eke out through his laughter.

Ella giggled back, “Too bad! You’re stuck with me, innuendoes and all.”

“I’d hardly call that a bad thing, you know.” Jack’s laughter began to subside into breathless chuckles. Most of the cream had slid down his face and landed on his chest and lap.

“O-oh,” Ella tried to remain focus, but Jack was so close to her. “Let me help, honey.” Quickly, she grabbed a napkin that was sitting on the coffee table blotted parts of his face to remove the sweet confectionary cream from his face. Jack was perfectly still and let her work, seemingly content to let Ella touch him, even if it was just for the sake of cleanliness. She could feel his warm breath against her skin. He wasn’t even doing anything other than just sitting there, messed up by her own hand. Yet something about it made it feel… oddly intimate. Especially the way Ella was studying the sharp features of his face.

“I think that’s all of it—oh, wait,” Ella cupped the side of Jack’s cheek and guided it to the side. “You’ve got something on your face…”

“Ella--?” Jack was cut off at the feel of Ella’s soft lips against his cheek.

The dusting of pink across her face as she pulled back was impossible to ignore, as was a small, coy smile. “Never mind, it was just me.”

Jack’s smile widened, positively smitten. “Have I told you recently that I love it when you get spontaneous?”

The compliment hit its mark perfectly as Ella’s blush deepened before an idea began to form in her mind.

Spontaneous, huh…?

Read more at the link on top. Thank you for reading~!

#Sunny Day Jack #Something Is Wong With Sunny Day Jack #SDJ #SDJ OC #SUnny Day Jack Fanfic #MissElla's Works #please don't bully me for the title too much #puns are my bread and butter

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jedi-bird · 5 days

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Silly Game Time: What's your favorite fruit (besides me, obviously)?

Nectarines. They're one of the few fruits I like regardless of what stage of ripeness they are at. Had bad luck this year and only got to eat two of the six I bought (the rest went moldy immediately).

Close seconds are raspberries, cara cara oranges, white peaches, and yuzu. But I will skip all of them for a nectarine.

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teruthecreator · 1 month

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for the character ask meme i feel you have enough of a history with this man for me to request, if you would like: lancaster?

RUBS MY HANDS TOGETHER HOOOOOOOO BOY

Sexuality Headcanon:

gay (i think this is canon?)

Gender Headcanon:

man we dont got time to think about this because of the Everything but i think he could rock some he/she swag in another life

A ship I have with said character:

HARLAAAAAAAAAAAAAANC OH MY GOD THEY MAKE ME INSANE. THEIR DIVORCE NOT-DIVORCE IS GOING TO DRIVE ME UP A WALL. literally like just their canon dynamic makes me insane like. not to get too into spoilers bc theres friends who arent caught up but just like the Everything going on between them post -3 incident is like. GOD. the ep where they actually talk some of it out had me literally cheering and clapping around my house like i was watching a football game. literally they are so IGOR coded it PAINS ME. YOU GOTTA LISTEN TO IGOR MAN SO YOU CAN SEE MY VISION BUT THE VISIONS THERE THE IGORISMS ARE THERE AND THEY KILL ME. i will literally push all my wips aside to write the one bed fic i swear to fucking god

A BROTP I have with said character:

LANCASTER AND LOVE MAKE ME A LITTLE CRAZY OKAY. JUST. OHHHHHHHHHHHHH OHHHH THEIR BOND. the fact that they start so opposite and love not really wanting to trust him or talk to him to like. TO LIKE HER ACTIVELY SEEKING HIM OUT AND MISSING HIM AND WANTING TO SPEND TIME WITH HIM. IT JUST MAKES ME DIE MAN IT MAKES ME WANNA DIE. the dnd ep really gets me bc she trusts him so much, even when he did That, and it really goes to show how much her opinion on him has changed. the fact that she’s the only one to humanize him in the beginning of his -3 imprisonment is everything to me THEY MEAN EVERYTHING TO ME YOUR OFFICER

A NOTP I have with said character:

i have yet to peek into the fandom for this podcast but if i see a single person shipping lanc w d-1 i will start throwing tables at heads

A random headcanon:

okay so i’ve been thinking A LOT about what lancaster’s favorite redbull flavor would be. because there are a lot of fucking flavors of redbull and he isn’t just drinking the regular redbull bc Why Would You Do That so like. i’ve had to use my EXTENSIVE knowledge of redbull flavors—as a redbull connoisseur myself—to decide what flavor screams Orion Lancaster Findusalive. and i THINK i have the results of my findings. i think his absolute FAVORITE would be peach-nectarine because it’s really sweet (like INSANELY SWEET) and heavy on the peach flavoring to the point that i don’t even think the nectarine is in there. and idk he just seems like a peach guy to me. i think second favorite is probably watermelon bc it is objectively The Best redbull flavor on the market and he would be a fucking fool not to like it. and then third favorite would probably be something like blueberry or juneberry (the two are almost identical in flavor to me). those are my findings as the certified Redbull Guy

General Opinion over said character:

he makes me want to EAT DRYWALL. GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD i genuinely dont think theres anything else i can say other than that. there are so many layers to him and so much going on i knew from the MOMENT i started that he would be a character that stuck out to me. and the more i hear from him the more i am certain of this. this is a certified ollieguy to me but make no mistake he is also a michguy. not as much as klein but close!!!! very close. my little onion <3

#ignorance cloud on #fua #fua spoilers #A LITTLE BIT. I TRIED TO BE VAGUE BUT WATCH OUT GRIFFIN AND DOC #im insane about this podcast folks. certifiably

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acoraxia · 1 year

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Sunburst and soysauce are cute but yeah no, peacherines and nectaplum are the clearly superior dynamic names.

Honestly I prefer most of your dynamic names to others it's just banger after banger with them

y'all go for food-based names but never go for the actual foods these characters are hc'd to love nor do you guys assign them a proper fruit 😭😭

look I know QXT likes apples in the show and LXJ is the one who eats an orange in S3's special eps — but QXT gives me such nectarine vibes it's insane! Not to mention nectarines are a stone fruit and similar to peaches and mangos AND plums! so regardless if you hc macaque as a mango or plum you've still got a connection to qxt somehow

Cloud Nine is where I diverge a little but that's solely because Cloud Nine is a way to say you're ecstatic, happy or hyped up over something! Which fits LXJ and SWK a lot

also this is funny considering i once got backlash for calling the pudding duo bros (tang and macaque) that because they "didn't have any correlation to their characters" but where then you have "soysauce duo" and i blank out

(this is all /lh btw)

#woof loupen #if youre going to say my names are bad then thats fine #but im side-eyeing certain names because i cannot for the life of me correlate some names to some characters #idk!#it be like that

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viatagrinner · 2 years

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Clavis Lelouch. The Prince is a Bodyguard. Chapter 1 & 2

It's a good day. MC and Clavis went on a date. The girl turned down the alley to get to the store she wanted to visit faster.

There was a loud noise. A large number of soap bubbles flew at her.

The sight was beautiful.

(There is no one but Clavis to do it...)

The prince is proud of the reaction he got from his beloved.

Sudden attack-the basis of the trap. Clavis waited for the heroine to relax.

(Of course, I didn't expect such a trap to be waiting in the middle of a date.)

MC: Recently I thought I was used to Clavis's traps, but I guess I still am not.

Clavis: If you get used to the traps, I'll make traps that surpass them.

Clavis: It is because of you that I can continue to set high goals as a trap master.

Clavis: I currently have the best abilities at court as a trap master, but the day is not far off when I will be the best on the continent, is it?

(That's grandiose... But if it's Clavis, I think it will really come true someday.)

Still, MC liked the trap. Clavis is happy about it.

(If it's such the trap, it's not a bad thing to fall into.)

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

A couple of days passed.

MC hesitated in her thoughts, because now every day she falls into traps.

Now these traps are not to surprise the girl, but to get her attention.

(And most importantly... Clavis seems to be busier than ever these days.)

The prince does not answer her questions.

A few days later, MC decides to get answers from Clavis to her questions.

Clavis: Lady Fiancée, look at this tree. Isn't there a lot of fruit on this tree?

But the heroine went to this place often, there were no fruit trees.

There was an apple growing on the tree, pears on another, peaches on a third.

When the girl saw it up close, it was stronger than a real apple and had a unique luster.

Clavis denied that it was an apple.

The surface of the "apple" was hard, but the inside was soft flesh. It looked like an apple, but tasted like a peach.

This is a new invention of Clavis that he is proud of.

Has Clavis invented nectarines in this world?

He offers to eat them to the heroine.

The girl collects them from the tree. She realizes that she has forgotten her main goal.

She, noticing a cloud of dust, wonders if the prince has been hiding something from her.

Clavis offers to show her.

Several people lose consciousness, having been dragged down by a rope.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Chapter 2

Clavis explains that they are the "bad guys. They attack the heroine and the prince every time they go on a date.

Clavis: Well, we're always so in love that they get jealous of us, aren't we?

Clavis: These men may be jealous, but. It won't ruin our love.

Clavis: Haha, that's why, men bow down to our love.

The captives were taken away by the knights.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

In the carriage.

The heroine thinks of the traps as a distraction for her so that she would not see or hear that they were being followed. Also, the prince spoke to the girl in a light, cheerful tone so that MC would not be afraid.

MC: Clavis, maybe the recent traps were designed so that I wouldn't notice that we were being followed?

Clavis: No, it wasn't. I set the trap "for my own sake".

Clavis: Dear Fiancée, I love you with all my heart.

MC: ....Oh, thank you very much...

Clavis: I absolutely cannot let anyone intrude on our love date.

Clavis: If that had happened, you would have been distracted by another man while you were on your date, wouldn't you?

That would have upset the prince very much.

The girl's heart immediately felt warm.

Clavis' traps immediately seemed more charming.

However, why did the prince only tell her about it today?

Clavis: It's because. We're about to catch the baddest villain among the baddest villains.

Clavis: Yes, that's right. Many envy us lovers, but few begin to act without someone leading them.

The prince says that MC can no longer be bothered.

She is glad, but disappointment creeps into her heart. It was all for her protection.

She wants to help the prince with one last trap.

Clavis: .....

He was dumbfounded, but then he laughed.

Clavis: That's my dear bride, isn't it?

MC: ....It's obvious.

MC: I want to protect Clavis the way Clavis protected me.

MC: I'm Clavis' accomplice, aren't I?

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Clavis' Masterlist

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen ouji #ikepri translation #clavis lelouch events #masterlist clavis lelouch #ikemen clavis #ikepri clavis #ikemen prince clavis #clavis lelouch

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cookinguptales · 9 months

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I generally spend summers out west visiting with my parents because it's much colder out there, which is better for my chronic illnesses. I figure that there's nothing much keeping me here during the summer, especially because it's not really safe for me to go outside when it's hot, so until something comes up that makes traveling for long periods less attractive (like a job that requires me to stay put, a partner, home renovations, etc.) I'm gonna keep doing it.

But brooooo the only thing that makes me occasionally consider staying here for the summer is plants. When I used to stay here during the summer, before my parents moved to California, I used to grow the most beautiful plants. I have this raised garden bed that I got when I first moved in and I've never really gotten to use it because I'm just never here during a full growing season anymore.

I have grow shelves in my office and that's nice, but it's nothing compared to actually being able to grow tomatoes and stuff in my garden. And OH if I were able to use that space out there to get a little apple tree! One of the self-pollinating ones with multiple varieties! Or one of the dwarf peach/nectarine combos...

I'd cry!

But those things need a little babying and I'm just not here enough to do it properly. Which is sad, because gardening is actually pretty good for my mental health. And while I love my parents' area, a lot of fruiting plants just do not do well in that environment. I love the plants that are there, but every time we've tried to do tomatoes or cucumbers or something, they just do not thrive at all. Way too cold and gray. We can grow pea pods, but I hate pea pods...

*staring into space daydreaming about franken fruit trees because someone on my dash had the misfortune to reblog something about plant grafting*

#plant grafting makes me feral #whenever people sit still long enough I always eventually start telling them about apple biodiversity #and how if you plant apple seeds they will not be the same variety as the apple it came from #and you can only truly replicate them through grafting #and that's why -- oh no I'm doing it again #once I did some stupid 'what ___ are you' quiz #and at the end they were like 'tell me something fun'#and I legit just launched into the apple lecture I'm so sorry I love the apple lecture #I took this class on food science in college #and I had to do a presentation on how to read and order from a seed catalog #and I honestly just fell in love with it I now read those things like they're magazines #sometimes I just daydream about being able to move somewhere with land so I could plant everything #but I know my body would never let me anyway #BUT I CAN DREAM...

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broodsys · 24 days

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peach tree saga continues:

so seriously, this years harvest is unprecedented for us, and that meant we were completely taken by surprise. the tree is seriously bent over and has had to be braced to a number of things, including a ladder

another effect of this is: no netting or protection was installed. honestly, idk that i would've? i truly do not mind creatures eating our peaches. and the fallen/partly eaten ones go in the worm bin to become soil later

but it does mean that i just had to go out and do a fallen peach run and while i respect all insects, it is still p unpleasant to work in a small cloud of fruit flies 😂😅

whenever possible i try to do work like this while it's raining but no rain coming up and the peaches were Not gonna wait, so

another benefit of having other things eat the peaches is that every peach off of that tree is less weight on it. i'm gonna be trimming it so intensely after the harvest is over, holy shit. and i have been! now and previously! i've tried very hard to keep it manageable, but it just got settled and went Off this year

general garden stuff:

we really do not have much land. little backyard and sideyard. the frontyard is a wasteland that only the hardiest plants can tolerate, bc it has all that cheap infill soil they ~love~ putting in after laying the pipes and whatnot. but i'm finding things that work here. the peach tree is surrounded by marionberries as well, so we get a nice berry harvest well before the peaches come in, and now we have a nectarine tree in the backyard. have several other things that aren't old enough to bear yet but i'm looking forward to trying someday

also sage. sm sage. i barely use sage? it was an impulsive planting, tossed some veryyyyy old seeds i thought were gone into a little patch of soil, now it's a massive area of sage 😂that said, pollinators love the flowers on it and it flowers for a long time, so it's all good. trying to plant some in the front yard too, bc it is obviously very hardy. i've had a few cuttings take root there so that's been nice to watch

#i realized i rarely talk about gardening anymore so! rectifying that #spent most of my life living in apartments #and didn't even get into container planting there #so all this gardening has been a constant massive learning process #but i'm trying really hard to restore the soil above all #while i'd love to grow crops there are some things here that make that difficult/risky so i stopped trying #and am focusing on perennial things and soil restoration in general

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rachelkaser · 8 months

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Stay Golden Sunday: The Days and Nights of Sophia Petrillo

Blanche, Rose, and Dorothy lounge around the house during a rainy day. Meanwhile, Sophia has an active and fulfilling day volunteering, raising money for charity, and fighting with customer service people.

Picture It...

Blanche, Rose, and Dorothy sit in the kitchen on a rainy morning in their pajamas. Sophia enters, fully dressed and carrying an umbrella, on her way to the market to buy a nectarine. After she leaves, the other Girls opine that Sophia has nothing interesting in her life before trying to decide what to do to fill the rainy day. They initially decide to reline the kitchen shelves until they get distracted by a box of cookies.

At the market, Sophia is picking out a nectarine and runs into her friend Claire, who's looking for a refund on a lamb chop. The employee says they can't take it back, but Sophia starts arguing, claiming to be a representative of the Network of Older People Retired but Living (NOPRL). When a manager comes over, she then claims to be with the Organization of Retired and Elderly People (OREP) and threatens a boycott against the store if her friend doesn't get a refund. The manager pays the lamb chop refund out of his own pocket, and Sophia guilts Claire into paying for her nectarine.

SOPHIA: Hey! Hey, you got any decent nectarines? WORKER: There's nothing wrong with those nectarines. SOPHIA: Please, I've got a bowl of wax bananas that'll be ripe before these are. WORKER: You're crazy! This nectarine is byoo-tee-ful. I never saw a more perfect piece of fruit. SOPHIA: No? Then try kissing my behind. It's a real peach!

Back in the kitchen, Rose and Dorothy are listening to Blanche tell stories about her encounters with men -- in particular a date with one Preston Bougainvillea, a gentleman with long, floppy ears (and apparently other long, floppy appendages). They no longer feel like relining the kitchen shelves and change tasks to rearranging living room furniture, deciding not to wait for Sophia to get back.

On the boardwalk, Sophia is conducting a small jazz band of old ladies, who sound very lackluster. She eventually stops them and says they're no longer raising enough money for the clinic. Two other women talk to her about who's paying for lunch, and she says it's her day at the hospital. They realize they've attracted a crowd now that the rain has stopped. With renewed vigor, they launch into a spirited rendition of "When the Saints Go Marching In" and the onlookers happily throw money into their basket.

SOPHIA: Let's see, who's buying? WANDA: Pulse or pressure? SOPHIA: Pressure. ESTHER: 140 over 80. WANDA: 130 over 80. SOPHIA: 120 over 70. Your treat, Esther.

Back at the house (again), the other Girls finish up a pizza, having not really finished any work thus far. Rose keeps trying to get Dorothy and Blanche motivated to do some work and not waste time, which she does by telling a St. Olaf Story about Pigpen "Johansson" who ruined Founder's Day by wasting time. She eventually segues into another story.

At Biscayne General Hospital, Sophia arrives for her shift as a volunteer Sunshine Lady. Her fellow volunteer says her "boyfriend" Sam was looking for her. The elderly Mrs. Leonard approaches and asks if any of the delivered flowers are for her. Sophia quickly divests herself of a task and makes Mrs. Leonard's day by saying all the flowers are for her and letting her wheel the whole cart away. A little boy, the aforementioned Sam, wheels himself into the waiting room to visit Sophia.

youtube

Back in the kitchen (yet again), Rose is on her umpteenth St. Olaf Story as they've waited 45 minutes for a cake to bake. Rose worries if Sophia's exhausting herself coming back from the market, and Dorothy talks about her grandmother's high energy levels later in life. The Girls go into the living room to watch Jeopardy and eat their cake. Back at the hospital, Sophia is entertaining Sam and gives him the nectarine.

Sam tells her it doesn't matter if he eats healthy, since they "goofed up [his] blood" with a transfusion and there's no cure. She tells him that there will be some day, and Sam could be the first one. Back at the house, it's nighttime and Rose laments their lazy day. Sophia finally returns home and the other Girls say they took care of "odds and ends" around the house. Dorothy asks her what she did that day.

SOPHIA: What did I do today? What I do everyday: I bought a nectarine.

"Remember the clinic and work hard! Remember your art and be proud! Remember an F-sharp and blow!"

This is the episode specifically that prompted me to write a tribute to Estelle Getty a couple of weeks ago. This is one of only a few Sophia-centric episodes in the whole series, in which Estelle gets the lion's share of the screen time compared with her costars. In Jim Colucci's Golden Girls Forever, the primary theme of the anecdotes about this episode is Estelle's stage fright, and how it would make filming more difficult.

ROSE: Now we agreed we weren't gonna waste time. That'd be a big mistake, something we'd regret for the rest of our lives. DOROTHY: Rose, we're eating pizza, not getting tattoos. ROSE: I just hate the idea of wasting time. I always have. Ever since what happened to my neighbor in St. Olaf-- BLANCHE: Rose, are you about to educate us on the evils of wasting time by telling a long, tedious St. Olaf Story? ROSE: You know a better way? DOROTHY: She has a point, Blanche.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I admire Estelle for doing her best and putting in such good work despite the fear and anxiety that her job gave her. According to the stories Colucci collected, everyone on set tried their best to be patient with her, knowing that Estelle lacked the experience of her costars. One of the ways she tried to mitigate this was by writing down her lines on any paper, prop, or bit of set dressing that wouldn't be in direct view of the camera.

I'm so glad she made the effort, because this episode about what Sophia gets up to on an average day is one of my favorites. Not only does it have a central story about Sophia maintaining an active and satisfying life even at an advanced age -- which is both fun to watch and instructive for anyone who thinks being old means you can't thrive -- it has a contrasting B-plot where the other Girls worry about Sophia's lack of fulfillment in her life while they themselves spend all day lounging around the house.

ABE: It's after 1 o'clock. You're late. SOPHIA: So dock me. ABE: You do this for free. SOPHIA: Then be grateful! Anything happening? ABE: Yeah, three in surgery, two in x-ray . . . *indicates cart of flowers* and you have to deliver these on your break. SOPHIA: In your dreams! I'm a Sunshine Lady, not a Teamster.

Sophia's day out consists of her original stated purpose of buying a nectarine at the market -- while also bullying the employees to take back a fatty lamb chop with a threatened boycott from phony elderly organizations -- conducting a jazz band to raise money for charity at the boardwalk, and volunteering at the hospital and befriending a sick little boy. I would say I hope I'm that active when I'm Sophia's age, but truthfully, I wish I was that active now.

It won't come as a surprise to anyone who knows Sophia's character well, that she's so charitably minded. She may be irascible and even goes out of her way to avoid work, but she spends her entire day making everyone else's better. She brightens Mrs. Leonard up, gives everyone at the boardwalk a good performance, gets her friend $1.17 back for a bad lamb chop, and even keeps Sam's spirits up. I can see why she won the Best Friend of Good Health award back in "The Flu" over her roommates.

ROSE: Whatever happened to [your grandmother]? DOROTHY: She colonized life on Venus. Rose, she was 94 when I was 6. She died, you idiot. ROSE: How did she die? DOROTHY: You know, we're not sure. One night, she left in her wheelchair and she never came back. The next day, the neighborhood kids had a go-kart with two really big back wheels.

Speaking of Sam, I think it's worth mentioning here that there's subtext in his interactions with Sophia that some modern viewers won't pick up on. I sure didn't the first time I saw it, until my mother explained it to me. They don't outright say it, but it's heavily implied that the young man's terminal illness is AIDS -- he says there's no cure, no one's ever beat it, and that he got it because they "goofed up his blood" with a transfusion. Golden Girls will address the HIV/AIDS panic more directly in later episodes, but this is the first time.

As for the B-plot, I appreciate the contrast it offers: Sophia out having a productive day while the other three Girls sit at home and screw around. As much as I admire Sophia, I also think there's nothing wrong with just sitting and having a lazy day. Despite Rose's disgust at the idea of wasting time -- thanks to the apparent laziness of Pigpen "Johansson" -- it's sometimes nice to forgo being constructive in favor of resting up.

MRS. CARP: Excuse me, I'd like to check on my husband Mr. Carp -- prostate surgery? SOPHIA: Nothing yet, but he'll be fine. I went through it myself thirty years ago. MRS. CARP: You had prostate surgery? SOPHIA: What do I look like, a crossdresser? My husband had the surgery. I was the one who went through it.

The best part, to me, is the fact that all three women choose to fuss over Sophia's apparent lack of said constructive activity, while she's out running rings around them. I always wondered a bit why Sophia simply tells them she's out "buying a nectarine" and not what she's actually doing during the day. But it's honestly not their business, and given how protective and smothering Dorothy can be, I can't blame Sophia for keeping it under wraps.

Dorothy, Blanche, and Rose all have their chance to tell silly stories during their lazy day in, with Rose apparently getting in several St. Olaf Stories while their cake is baking. While the cynical side of me wonders if this wasn't an excuse to use some unrelated stories that had been cut from other episodes, it's still fun to watch the women sit around and yarn with no pesky plot to get in the way.

Episode rating: 🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰 (five cheesecake slices out of five)

Favorite part of the episode

After conning a supermarket manager into refunding her friend's lamb chop, Sophia can't help herself:

SOPHIA: Oh listen, how much for the nectarine? MANAGER: Take it. It's on the house. SOPHIA: Oh, we can't do that. It's against the bylaws. MANAGER: Alright, you can pay me. That's 45 cents. SOPHIA: 45 cents for one lousy nectarine? What's inside -- a pit or a pearl? *weighs the bag* This is a 25-cent nectarine. MANAGER: Fine, sold. SOPHIA: Claire, don't stand there like a bump on a pickle. Give the man a quarter. *swans out of the store*

#golden girls #stay golden #stay golden sunday #sophia petrillo #rose nylund #dorothy zbornak #blanche devereaux #picture it #s04e02 #the days and nights of sophia petrillo #Youtube

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