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pixelwisp · 3 years

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“So,” Makki says, tossing an apple between his hands, “I’ve been thinking.”

You hum in response, observing the various vegetables that were laid out in front of you. Ever since Makki got his own apartment, he’s been, well, adjusting, to the say the least. The first few weeks after he had moved in, he barely survived off of microwave noodles and take out, and after some griping, he gave in and promised you he would finally go to the store and stock up his kitchen with more than just ramen and an old bottle of soy sauce. When you checked the next time you were over, however, you only found energy drinks, some mayo, the same soy sauce from before, and ingredients to make milk bread (”For Iwaizumi’s birthday,” he said. You explained to him that it was Oikawa that liked milk bread, not Iwa, but he just kind of shrugged and said “then he’ll like it because it’ll remind him of Oikawa”). It only took a week after that for him to beg you to take him to the store and show him how to properly stock up on food that typically had more nutritional value than Redbull and honey butter chips.

“Do you like artichokes?” He blinks.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“I am, you said you’ve been thinking about something. Artichokes?” He grumbled, but nodded anyway, and you plopped two artichokes into the basket with a satisfied smirk.

“Anyway, like I said, I’ve been thinking-”

“That must be shocking, thinking for the first time,” you tease, and he huffs in defiance, arms coming up to cross in front of his chest.

“Are you gonna let me finish?” You laugh, nudging him with your hip in reassurance.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m done, I swear,” you say, as you plop a few selections of fruit into the basket. He watches you with seemingly mock interest.

“I was thinking that maybe we could, uh, move in together.” You froze, the mango you currently had in your grasp slipping from your grip and falling into the basket. He shuffles softly beside you, maintaining an intense focus on the assortment of berries that were displayed in front of him while your eyes refused to move from the various kinds of apples that were in front of you.

“Just cause you’re - uh - really good, you know, at food shopping.”

“You want me to move in with you because I’m good at food shopping?”

“...among other reasons.”

Your lips twitch up.

“Pick an apple,” you say, reaching for two different kinds and holding them out to him. He cocks an eyebrow.

“Right now?” You nod.

“Guess correctly, and I’ll move in with you.” He gapes at you, pointing a limp finger toward the apples settled in your hands.

“You’re gonna put the future of our relationship on the line for apples?” You nod again, and after the shock settles in, he laughs.

“Okay, I’ll bite - which is which?” You bite your lip to hide the smile, trying your best to maintain an air of mock seriousness.

“Left is Tsuguru. Right is Fuji.” You stifle a laugh as he squints at both of them, deep concentration on his face. He strokes his chin as if deep in thought, angling himself to get a better look at each fruit. Eventually he reels back.

“I’ve made a decision.”

“But is it the right one, I wonder?” He grins, and proceeds to take a huge bite out of the apple that he still happened to be holding. You gasp and pry the apple away from him. “What the hell are you doing? We haven’t paid for these, Taka!” Makki laughs, reaching over and plucking the apple back with ease.

“I’m sure it’s fine, we’ll just buy a bunch to make up for it.” He takes another bite, and you huff as you placed the other two apples back to their rightful places. He leans over to rest his weight on you, another crunch sounding throughout the market. You grumble about getting kicked out and he chuckles in response.

“You never told me if I won or not,” he says, and pokes your cheek. You jerk your head back with a roll of your eyes, and reach your leg out to kick his own as he laughs.

“You never picked an apple.”

“Yes I did! I picked mine! Orins’ are superior in every way.” You didn’t respond immediately, seemingly too engrossed in the label you were reading, but you knew he’d recognize the playful smile you let settle on your face.

“Do you have a rice cooker?” Makki groaned.

“Baby, you’re killing me here.” You laugh, throwing the bag of rice into the basket.

“I’m asking because I already own one, and we don’t need two.”

“No, Y/n, I don’t have a rice cooker, but can you take me seriously for a moment? I’m trying to ask you something big here, and you’re kinda making me nervous, I-” His voice stops abruptly as his brain caught up. He meets your playful gaze, and his lips twitch upward. He looked hopeful. “We...don’t need two rice cookers.”

“That’s right.”

“’We.’”

“Mhm.”

“So this is you saying yes then?” Your eyes trailed to his feet, and you giggled as they continue to anxiously shuffle.

“Well, you did pick the right apple, and I always keep to my word.” A smile almost too bright breaks out on his face as his arms snake around you and he rests his head in your shoulder, planting a small kiss over the fabric of your shirt.

“Thank god, I thought I was gonna have to shop alone next time.” You laugh and feel him grin into your shoulder as his breath tickles your neck. He pulls back just enough to look at you, and the amount of pure love that you can feel in his gaze makes you melt into his grip. He leans in, capturing your lips for just a moment, and pulls back with a beaming smile.

“I guess you could say we’re on our way to our...apple-y ever after, huh?”

“Taka, you literally couldn’t have chosen a worse moment.”

“There are no bad moments for these excellent pun powers, babe. Its the very core of my being.”

“I take it back, I’m going home.”

“Our home, you mean, right?” Silence. “Babe?” Nothing. “Shit, wait, Y/n, come back please, I’ll stop with the apple puns I promise, you’re still moving in with me right? Right? Baby?”

request: going off of the apple discourse what about going grocery shopping with makki or idk something domestic?

a/n: I wish I came up with a better ending but I was lowkey terrified of making him OOC so I just kind flailed through the whole thing.

Join the Taglist!

#hanamaki #hanamaki takahiro #takahiro hanamaki #makki x reader #makki #makki x you #makki fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #seijoh 4 #can you tell I sprinkle iwaoi into fucking everythign LMAO #love my boys #orimakki #hanamaki x reader #hanamaki fluff #lowkey hate this so posting in the middle of the night sf;dgf #✧ — noe’s works

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okaybutlikeimagine · 3 years

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A Father’s Day Triptych

TW: past/referenced child abuse, emotional hurt/comfort, child neglect

(you can find it on AO3 here ♥)

Father’s day in the Hargrove household was always pulled taut with expectations of kindness and submission hanging over Billy’s head.

They didn’t always used to be that way. When he was a kid, Father’s days felt like a reprieve rather than a burden. Billy and his mom would prepare special things- a nice card that would make him laugh, those new fishing poles he’d been eyeing in the big sporting store a town over, a pretty cake with fresh fruit on top from the grocer down the way. His mother went all out. She’d get Billy all excited for it too. The strenuous relationships were softened for a day where they did everything they could to make him happy.

They really did… everything they could just to make him happy. Sometimes Billy still wonders why it had to take so much.

Around Father’s day, his mother would use all her spending money to make his father smile. It usually worked. And for that day, it was so good. It could hardly get better. Grilling and watching stupid baseball games Billy never cared about but would pretend to be interested in, just for him. Fake smiles almost became real. Hot dogs and hamburgers and watermelon always tasted better on those days when his father would put his arm around Billy amicably- when he would laugh at the card and compliment how Billy’s penmanship was getting better every year.

The year that she left was the worst.

The year that she left Billy stopped getting an allowance. He had no money to soften the edges of his father with fresh cakes and fancy presents. He panicked. He stole a stupid fishing keychain from a store and made a card from his school notebook paper. He presented them with shaking hands to his father who seemed glued to the couch, eyes bloodshot, surrounded by beer cans, baseball game so loud Billy’s ears felt sore.

He got a grunt and a lazy eye roll in response. A slurred groan of “your writing is sloppy”. A quieter admission of regret.

He got resentment. Billy was 9 and he knew it was resentment towards his very existence. He slid away to his room. There was no dinner to eat that night as his father passed out on the couch with the TV still on far too loud.

When Susan and Max came into the picture, Billy miraculously found a reason to be happy for it. Suddenly there was pressure taken off of him. He let Max know it too, as Susan encouraged them to go out and “at least get him a card”. They’d lazily look through all the forcibly funny and generic pieces of paper. Max was nervous that first year.

“It’s whatever.” Billy had grunted, looking through ugly green cards with stupid phrases on them. “She’s gonna bang him tonight, he won’t care about a dumb card.”

“Ew.” Max had whined, covering her ears and pouting. Billy couldn’t find it in himself to care.

It was never fun. Billy felt like he was on a leash all day long, obligated to do everything he could for his father just to keep him civil. Susan made a steak, the kids handed over the card, his father remarked how his penmanship was the mark of someone lazy and sloppy (no matter how hard Billy would try to make it as neat as he possibly could), and the day would end. And he could stop thinking about how this man still had a hand in his life.

…

Father’s day in the Hopper household was always bumbling and awkward.

By the time that first one came around, Billy was just beginning to feel less like a burden to the house and more like an addition. He’d found comfort in the space they all shared. They had a sort of routine set between all of them. There was still no second bed for Billy, so he still felt like he was imposing when Hop slept on the couch, but it was a sort of pull out couch by that point and Hop insisted and Billy decided not to pay it too much mind.

And that first Father’s day was just… awkward. Billy had completely forgotten the date- summer had just started for him and days were rolling by in hot and languid and lazy moments of feeling out every new situation. He had just started getting really serious with Steve. Not just touching for the sake of getting off but really starting to need and want each other in ways that scared him. In ways that made him want to keep things how they were- ways that made him scared to change a thing. It was a new and alien feeling for him.

El had inadvertently learned about Father’s day from Mike when he briefly groaned about dinner plans his family had. Billy found that out from El on their drive to the store to pick something up for Hop. She had to convince Billy it was a thing they should do, because Hopper was their father. He did fatherly things for them. He took them in and gave them a roof and food and asked how their days were and wished them goodnight and good morning, however groggily. He made stupid jokes that made them moan and he danced horribly to the old records he kept on their dusty shelf and he was horrible with laundry and he whistled as he did dishes.

He introduced Billy proudly in the grocery store once. It was the weekend after Billy had a really good basketball game that Hop had decided to attend. Hop bragged about it to some friend of his. Billy flushed red and elbowed him and tried his best to escape.

He thought about it every single day.

Billy and El bought a large cheesy balloon, ingredients to make a nice lasagna dinner, and a green and white cake from the bakery. The balloon was more for El. The lasagna was a little burnt. Hop was too nice to say he’d have preferred pie to cake, but he ate it anyway as they sat around the TV and watched whatever program was on. Billy only remembered as he fell slowly into sleep that night. He jolted awake quickly, remembering a sort of far off conversation months ago where Hop had proclaimed confidently that pie was the superior dessert of anything else- yes, even Eggo's with whipped cream and sprinkles. How he admitted cake was never his favorite.

Billy felt shame overcome him as he remembered, pushing himself out of bed and turning to the sofa with the immediate want to apologize for it. He wasn’t sure what came over him.

But instead of sending pleading apologies into the darkness, he just looked towards the sofa with a heavily beating heart and let his eyes adjust. And he thought about all that man had done for the two of them. Thought about how he took in these two stray kids. Thought about how he knew Hop was getting flack for it, because Billy heard the whispers and the snickers and the sneers about Hop running a dog pound. Thought about how he gave up his probably comfier trailer for the rundown cabin, gave up the main bedroom for the dusty spare bed, gave up the dusty spare bed for the couch, gave up parts of his sanity probably…

Billy didn’t wanna apologize anymore. He just whispered a thanks, even though it was hard to push up through his throat and would fall onto sleeping ears.

The Father’s days after that first one got better. They got Joyce, and along with her 2 boys that had their own rocky past with fathers and celebrations of them. Just four kids who feared and resented father figures. It ended up being better than Billy could imagine. It was never quite as awkward as that first Father’s day, but never quite comfortable either. That being said, it was never a bad day. The bar was low, but that didn’t matter. Billy found appreciation for the general ease all the same.

…

Father’s day in the Hargrove-Harrington-”whatever we’re together now and that’s what’s most important” household is filled with guilt and feelings of imposter syndrome.

They don’t celebrate it the first two or so years after they’ve adopted their first child. He’s just a toddler, he doesn’t quite understand yet what it is. And they… they’re still struggling with what it means to be fathers. They’re confident in their rights but they’re not immune to the judgmental voices, always eyeing them oddly when they’re out together with their boy or asking after the mother when they’re out separately. Always looking a little judgmental or harsh when they have to explain why the kid doesn’t look like them- whoever is with him at the time. Or getting looks of pity when the people clearly begin to assume it’s because they couldn’t get pregnant with whatever wife must be at home.

It’s hard to hear. It makes them question everything. If their boy doesn’t know what he’s missing, then there’s no need to explain.

Billy calls Hopper and feels his heart lurch when Hop and Joyce wish him and Steve a happy father’s day. They do it with joy and certainty. As if it belongs to them, too. Billy hangs up the phone and lays in bed for at least half an hour. Steve can’t get through to him.

It’s an odd feeling. A rough feeling. When they adopt their second child, a girl of 9 years old, they know they’re going to have to confront it. Their son begins school that year too. They find out about the day from their friends and television ads and store windows. The children are timid with them- they were adopted as supposed “problem children” from rough homes and tumultuous pasts. Billy and Steve don’t expect anything of them but they’re still not sure how to explain that. They figure ignoring is easier than explaining. Maybe it’ll make it go away.

It doesn’t work well.

And Billy… Billy’s just struggling being a dad. He couldn’t explain the job if he tried. He helps make lunches, he gives timeouts, he buys and subsequently sneaks himself some silly little snack foods when he’s hungry and busy and doesn’t have time to do more than rip open a pouch. He deals with tantrums over vegetables and he wipes mouths with napkins and he sings lullabies in the wrong key and he reads bedtime stories until he himself dozes off in the tiny bed with a small head on his chest and drool pooling onto his shirt.

He’s trying. He gets frustrated at stores. He gets a little hot headed, a little loud. His heart breaks when they cry. He’s straddling the line between being a pushover and a hard-ass. He lays awake at night, staring at the ceiling, dreading ever becoming like Neil. He asks Steve, in the stillness of the night when the darkness acts as the weight of every horrible outcome imaginable, if he’ll follow Neil’s wretched footsteps.

“You’ll never be like him, Billy.”

“How do you know? What if it’s inside me already.”

“It’s not.”

“Maybe it is… maybe I won’t be able to help it.”

He stresses and he struggles and he wants to rip his hair out.

But that first father’s day comes around with their new daughter and newly knowledgeable son. And the two children blunder around the kitchen while their two dads are asleep. And then they wake the two parents up, both teary eyed and breathing heavy, faces full of apology and sorrow, asking for help to clean up the mess.

And Billy and Steve find the kitchen a single step back from full on disaster. There’s juice all over the counter and dripping onto the floor, the cereal box is all soggy from it, the toaster is smoking, a plate is broken on the ground, the fridge is still open. Their daughter pulls on Billy’s pajama pants and holds out her finger that’s bleeding. He gets out of her that she somehow managed to cut it on the butter knife she was using to cut up some fruit.

Steve gets busy cleaning things up. He asks their son to help do smaller things like close the fridge and grab some towels.

Billy takes his daughter’s small soft hand into his large, rough one and plants a kiss on it. It sends something like pure love surging through his heart. He guides her to the bathroom to put a bandaid on it and asks if she’s okay.

“Mmhm.” She nods and his heart softens. She sniffles. “M’sorry. We wanted… wanted to make breakfast and w-wanted to do something nice.”

She sounds like the weight of the world is on her small shoulders. Billy sees himself at 9 years old, doing his damnedest to get anything close to a damn smile out of his father while he sat unresponsive and unamused on the couch.

His heart yearns. It breaks and it pulls and it screams and it shouts. He pulls her in close and hugs her tight and tries to find the right words. Tries to tell her it’s made his entire year. It’s made him feel validated and happy and worth it, like all of that stress is worth it just to know that these two children got up early as hell on a Sunday morning just to surprise their fathers. Just to surprise the two of them. Just to say they thought of them, wanted to give them something, wanted to make them feel special.

“It was nice.” Is all he can croak out through his froggy throat.

“It’s a mess.” She sobs, but he just grips her arms tighter.

“It was wonderful.” He says and he’s crying too. He can’t get the tears to stop. He’s kneeling on the bathroom ground, the two of them crying to each other.

And Billy swears he’ll never get good at the father thing. He has talks with Hop about it, when he’s feeling vulnerable and Hopper’s able to get it out of him. By this point they’ve adopted another child- an older boy, a teenager. He’s rough and he’s jaded. He listens to loud, angry music. He kind of picks on the other two kids, even though he’d jump in front of a bus for either one of them. Hop asks how he likes it.

“He’s a lot like you were, y’know.” Hop tells Billy, who still doesn’t really see it.

Steve doesn’t have as much of a problem with the boy as Billy does. Billy and him just never seem to see eye to eye.

“It’s because you’re the same people.” Hop insists. Steve agrees. Joyce affirms with pity. “You clash.”

They clash hard. They get into yelling matches. Billy never puts a hand on him, but the arguments aren’t exactly great. Billy cries to Steve at night, fear shaking him down to his core, still able to see and hear himself yelling at that boy who fights tooth and nail back with him.

“You’re not a bad person, Billy.”

“Why do I do that shit?” He asks, knowing full well no one but him could ever really know.

It’s not like it’s anything too vitriolic. It’s not like it’s anything really poisonous.

It’s over the fact that he stays out too late at night, and Billy gets worried. It’s the fact that Billy found cigarettes in his room and he knows the bad effects of cigarettes. It’s the fact that he pushed his little brother one day and made him scrape his knee and he needed to learn some boundaries. It’s the fact that he lied about his grades when Billy felt they gave him no reason to do such a thing.

It’s fatherly things. That’s what Hop assures him as Billy cries on the phone with him.

“It’s things I would have done with you.”

Billy never ever knows what to make of that. What to make of what he’d be like now if Hop was his father from the start. If Hop was there from the beginning. If Neil hadn’t made him a monster in his own image.

Billy does his best to get through to him. Get through to his son now because he’s his son now.

Billy feels like the worst, most undeserving father.

As the kids have gotten older, they learned better ways to celebrate father’s day. They learn breakfast in bed isn’t really what the two of them would prefer- a nice lunch and getting to spend some time with them sounds better. A homemade card always goes on the mantle or the fridge with the rest of the collection. A few hugs because those are like treasured gifts in this house with kids who have a history of boundary and trust issues with parental figures.

The older son catches Billy alone in the kitchen.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Billy replies awkwardly back. The silence is jarring.

“I uh… uhm.” He’s struggling. Billy wants to do something more than just stand here, but he’s not sure what. He doesn’t want to push anything too far. He wants to be good at this.

The boy puts a small, wrapped box on the counter with an envelope underneath and slides it over.

“Happy Father's day.” He mumbles, suddenly fidgeting.

Billy stares at them.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

There’s another pause, heavy with all the weight and worry in Billy’s heart. He reaches for the box, rips the paper open easily, lifts up the lid.

“It’s uh… it’s just a couple tapes of some of those… bands you like. And talk about. All the time.” The boy snickers, but it catches in his throat. He’s so nervous. “My friend’s family was getting rid of a bunch of their tapes and I know you’ve got your old tape player still so… uh… yeah.”

It’s a mixed bag of absolute classics. Some tapes he used to have, others he’s always wanted. Zeppelin, Ted Nugent, Def Leppard, Billy Idol, AC/DC, Alice Cooper… his heart skips. He lost a lot of his tapes after all the sudden moves he’s had to make. His eyes start to well.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” Billy pushes out on a whisper.

“Are they any good?”

“They’re… they’re awesome, kid.”

“There’s a card too y’know.” The boy adds, still shuffling nervously.

Billy slips it out from under the box, pulling his finger underneath the flap to open it.

It’s… it’s ridiculous. It’s one of the cheesiest cards Billy’s ever seen. He thinks back to all the stupid, jokey cards he used to pick out with his mother. The joke inside actually makes him laugh, loud and bright.

There’s words written underneath, quite a few scribbled out and then-

Sorry for all the trouble. I think I just don’t like knowing you’re right sometimes… but thank you for everything.

The words are nearly chicken scratch- wobbly letters clearly written with a nervous and shaky hand. The boy is damn near bouncing now, damn near trying to crawl out of his skin with nerves.

It’s the best, prettiest, most wonderful chicken scratch handwriting Billy has ever seen. He can barely see it now through his misty eyes.

“Your… handwriting is really nice.”

The boy scoffs loudly.

“Uh, thanks?” He sounds like he doesn’t believe it. Still, Billy could swear he sees the boy preen, just a little.

“Thank you.” Billy says, fighting back tears, trying like hell to hold himself together. “I’m sorry, too. I don’t… I don’t have to yell at you so much. At all. I’m sorry about it.”

The boy is just staring at him, eyes a little wide and a little shocked. Billy feels his heart lurch. He just wants to be fucking good at this.

“I’m gonna do better.” Billy asserts through a not-so-wobbly-anymore voice

The boy gives a small smile that grows a bit wider. If Billy isn’t absolutely crazy yet, he’d say that the boy’s eyes are getting a bit misty too.

“So are those tapes actually good?” The boy asks, clearing his throat and trying to seem casual. Billy sees more and more of himself in him.

“Hell yeah… do you think I’d have bad taste?”

His son cackles just a bit, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, alright then. Whatever you say.”

There’s a pause. Billy takes the card and tucks it back into the envelope to save for himself- to put in a special place in his and Steve’s room. He then busies himself with shuffling through his tapes before his son says-

“We can… listen to some of them. If you want.”

Billy’s eyes shine with excitement and appreciation.

Listening to the tapes together is wonderful. They rib each other about what songs are better, what voices do and don’t sound the same, what the lyrics are like. They learn more about each other and maybe Billy is finally forced to admit that they’re a lot more alike than he realized.

And Billy starts to feel that maybe… maybe he can finally define what a father really means to him. And father’s days start to feel a bit more like they belong to him, too.

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just-come-baek · 3 years

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out to lunch

Pairing: cooking show chef!xiaojun x personal assistant!reader

Themes: smut

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: You come over to the kitchen set of Xiaojun’s cooking show to tell him you managed to get him what he had always dreamed of. However, once you reveal the big news, you discover his priorities have changed, and right now, the only thing he wants to do is you.

A/N support WayV lol | writing this for neosmutcollective mini wayv event

Xiaojun was utterly immersed in his world. Though it was already late at night, he was still behind the kitchen counter, chopping ingredients with his favorite knife. Right now, Xiaojun was in his element, oozing precision and determination to perfect his new recipe, and it somewhat felt like a sin to interrupt him.

You had big news to deliver, though. Having heard you out, Xiaojun would surely forgive you for your disruption. He had to. After all, you just managed to get him that cooking book contract he had always dreamed of.

Ever since you two had started working together, it was your goal to make Xiaojun a published author. Though he already owned three restaurants and starred in his own cooking show, Xiaojun was insatiable. The more fame and recognition he got, it was never enough.

You cleared your throat to obtain his attention, but it didn’t quite pull him out of his trance, so you decided to give him an extra minute.

Xiaojun looked incredibly attractive in his own habitat. In his white uniform and ridiculously big chef hat, Xiaojun looked like a whole damn Michelin three-star dish. No wonder he kept beating his viewing records with each new episode. People all across the country swooned over his culinary talent, incredible charisma, and breathtaking looks.

Having approached the kitchen counter, you knocked on the marble surface in hopes of obtaining his attention.

“Earth to Xiaojun,” you softly spoke, looking at his face. Apparently, the timing couldn’t have been worse as Xiaojun dropped his knife on the cutting board and swung it onto the floor, making a huge mess.

“What do you want!? Don’t you see I’m busy!?” Xiaojun barked before he turned around to get a clean set of kitchen utensils. “Get lost. I don’t want to talk to you,” he added, waving his hand at you, trying to chase you out of the kitchen space.

“Ugh, for the love of God, Xiaojun! How many times have we had this conversation? That diva tone doesn’t work on me,” you answered firmly, staring into his eyes, challenging him. His gaze was intense, his jaw was tensed, but you just smiled at him, ignoring his shenanigans altogether. It wasn’t the first time he lashed out at you, and you knew how to handle him.

“Okay, fine. What is it?” Xiaojun huffed, giving in. With his arms folded across his chest, he tapped his foot against the floor, impatiently waiting for the news.

“I got you that book offer. You’re gonna be a published author,” you exclaimed, ready to jump up and down in joy. However, Xiaojun didn’t seem to be particularly excited. “What’s the matter? Isn’t it what you’ve always wanted? I don’t get it,” you spoke, creasing your eyebrow in confusion, trying to read his bizarre expression.

Xiaojun seemed indifferent at best.

“Cancel it. Undo it. I won’t write it,” Xiaojun replied before he proceeded back to his previous task. It wasn’t wise to disturb him now, so you waited until all vegetables were neatly cubed and thrown into a bowl.

“Can you tell me what’s going on? I don’t understand. I thought you’ve always wanted it,” you inquired, trying a much calmer approach. Xiaojun didn’t use his knife now, but he was still holding it, and it wouldn’t be the first time someone earned a cut during a heated argument in the kitchen.

“I have,” Xiaojun replied with a deep sigh as he poured the chicken broth over the vegetables. “But it gets tiring, you know…” he added, as he took off his chef hat and threw it on the countertop, running his hand through his hair. “Everything is happening too fast. I thought I wanted it, but now, when I actually live that life, I realized I am not cut out for this.”

It was heart-breaking to listen to it. You two had been working very hard to get Xiaojun where he is right now, only to come to a conclusion it’s all wrong. Fame was a heavy cross to bear, and Xiaojun was slowly stumbling under its weight.

“Don’t tell me you want to quit,” you whispered, anxious to know the answer. Xiaojun’s eyes were trained on you, and you could see how tired he was. “How about you take it easy from now on instead of quitting it all together? It would be a shame to quit right at the finishing line,” you reasoned, hoping Xiaojun would consider it.

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s talk about it, okay?” you interjected before Xiaojun would impulsively ruin his career. “We’ve got only three more episodes to shoot. I could put you on hiatus until you decide you want to continue with another season. In the meantime, you could work on the cooking book at your own pace. Probably, I will make you record some cooking content on social media to keep you circulating on the web, so people won’t forget you. Except for that, your schedule would be clear to focus on whatever you need to focus on.”

Silence.

Xiaojun was staring at his chef hat, pondering your damn good points. When you put it like that, it was hard to say no. Besides, he had a feeling you would talk back instantly if he found faults in your argumentation.

Seconds passed without Xiaojun’s response. You were his voice of reason; he had to listen to you. Besides, not only was his career on the line. If he actually quitted, your superior would murder you. Xiaojun was the cash cow of the company; they couldn’t afford to lose him. He was at their rising star.

“Why do you always know what to say?” Xiaojun rhetorically asked, and you beamed, ready to grace him with an answer.

“I’m really good at my job,” you pointed out proudly. Thanks to your impeccable management and problem-solving capabilities, you managed to help Xiaojun rise to the top. “And also, I care about you. Sometimes, you’re a pain in the ass, but after all, you’re a good person. You are my friend, and I want you to be happy.”

“Fine, let’s do it your way. But we’re not shooting another season until I say so,” Xiaojun caved, smiling brightly at you. “You know what I really want to do, though?” He challenged as he rested his elbow on the counter, straightening his back, trying to appear taller and overall more confident.

His voice was quiet, and it suspiciously sounded as if he told “you.”

Shaking your head, you asked, “what?”

Xiaojun felt a sudden wave of confidence rush through him before he repeated himself clearly. No, there was no shred of doubt. You heard him loud and clear. Confidently, Xiaojun admitted that he really want to do was you.

“You seriously think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me?” Xiaojun spoke in a somewhat accusing tone, eyeing you from head to toe before he took a cautious step toward you. Intimidated, you took a step backward, and that timid action made Xiaojun smirk.

He knew exactly what type of effect he had on you. All memories of lingering glances you had stolen of him when you had believed he hadn’t been looking came back rushing to you. You weren’t as sly and discreet as you thought you were.

“It really flatters me,” Xiaojun teased with a smug smile. “Don’t deny it, and come here,” he urged, spreading his arms, waiting for you to run into him.

At first, you were sure Xiaojun was just messing with your head. You believed he was teasing you. You imagined him flick your forehead if you walked into his personal space. It was obvious he was mocking you. There was no way in hell that he wanted you the way you wanted him. You must’ve been seeing things.

“Jesus, woman! Hurry the fuck up,” Xiaojun warned you, losing his patience. “If you’re not coming here, I am coming there,” he added, giving you one last chance for a change of heart. “Screw it,” he cursed, surging forward, trapping you in his tight embrace.

His actions spoke louder than words. All your previous thoughts were gone; Xiaojun wouldn’t have bothered this much to pull a prank on you. He was genuine. Xiaojun held you still in his arms, waiting for you to make a move. He would never try anything without your permission, regardless of how delicious your lips looked.

“Kiss me,” he ordered, and you rushed, smashing your lips against his in a passionate kiss. It was everything you imagined it to be, but tenfold better. You had fantasized about his moment plenty of times, and weirdly enough, Xiaojun’s mouth somehow felt both soft and rough at the same time. “Now, we’re talking.”

You two completely lost it. Hands were running on your bodies as you engaged in a heated moment, relieving your much maddening frustration. It felt amazing, and you wished you could carry on until you both lose all your energy.

“Let’s go to my place,” you mumbled once you pulled away. Xiaojun still held you pressed against him as he waited for you to elaborate, being painfully clueless to your ulterior motive. “It’s much closer from here than yours,” you added, and Xiaojun only smiled dumbly, waiting for you to word your request in an even more ridiculous way.

“Why bother going anywhere when I can have you here?” Xiaojun playfully announced, giggling as his gaze shifted from your gorgeous eyes to the countertop. Almost instantly you realized what his crazy proposition was. Did you really want your first time with him to be on the kitchen island inside the cooking show set? It would be a blatant lie if you said you had never considered this.

“Fuck me then,” you urged, giving Xiaojun permission to ruin you right there.

Xiaojun didn’t waste any time. In an instant, he wrapped his arms around your thighs as he picked you up and gently sat down on the countertop. Except for your pencil skirt, your legs were bare, so you let out a slight hiss once you felt the cold marble against your skin.

Biting your lips, you spread your legs, letting Xiaojun stand right between them.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about fucking you here,” Xiaojun confessed before he leaned forward, stealing another desperate kiss. “You remember that time when we fought over the Oreo cake? I was so hard back then. I wanted to bend you over the counter so bad. I almost didn’t hold myself back.”

“You should’ve gone for it,” you whispered as you remembered that quarrel. That night Xiaojun had been the star of your fantasies when you used your vibrating friend to get yourself off. “I was so horny then. Almost as horny as right now,” you added, pulling him by his funny black tie, melting into yet another kiss.

Xiaojun was getting impatient. It was nice, but it wasn’t enough for him. Having untangled the knot of his apron, he yanked it off his hips, throwing it over his shoulder.

“I want to feel you so bad,” he murmured as he slid his fingers under your skirt, pulling your panties down your legs. “Let me prep you up,” Xiaojun uttered when his digits gently fondled your folds, gliding his knuckle inside of you. The moment you felt him, you let out a quiet moan, enjoying his little ministrations.

Xiaojun knew how to please a woman. He curled his fingers inside of you, stretching you out for his length. With your eyes shut closed, you focused on your pleasure, letting Xiaojun spoil you rotten. Though it was just mere petting, it felt nice as hell. He was getting you ready for his cock, and you basked in simple delight.

“Enough of that; I want you to fuck me now,” you kindly spoke, wrapping your palm around his wrist. “Please,” you added when you noticed how hesitant Xiaojun was of letting go. He planned on making you come first before properly fucking you with his cock, but since you asked him nicely, he decided to give you exactly what you wanted. Though he’d love to tease you some more, your pleading tone seemed to do the thing.

Swiftly, he yanked down his pants, revealing his member. It was standing proud, and you looked down at it, admiring it. Without any doubt, Xiaojun was to make your day.

As much as you wanted to return the favor, Xiaojun didn’t let you. Impatiently, he gave himself a few strokes before he aligned his cock with your entrance, rubbing its tip against your folds. Slowly, he pushed his hard length inside of you, making you groan.

Your grip on the edge of the countertop tightened as Xiaojun filled you up with his erection. At first, Xiaojun maintained a slow and steady rhythm. However, as you kept moaning his name and encouraging him to go faster, his thrusts became more rapid. Quickly, Xiaojun snapped his hips, finding your sweet spot in record time.

“Holy shit,” you exclaimed, feeling the knot inside of you tighten. You were moments away from your peak. Xiaojun’s cock stroked all the right places, pushing you off the edge. “Fuck, I am coming,” you shouted, kicking your head backward, welcoming the bliss that ripped through you.

When you were slowly descending back on Earth, Xiaojun kept chasing his release.

You could feel him throb inside of you. Then, an idea crossed your mind. Until now, it was Xiaojun who did all the work, so the least you could do was to encourage him to fill you up, to talk him through his orgasm.

“You fill me up so well. I came on your cock, and you’re still rock-hard. Do you want me to come again?” You complimented him, spilling filth. Though you weren’t sure if Xiaojun would be into dirty talk, you were certain he was eating it all up. Xiaojun was moaning your name as he snapped his hips, falling out of his even rhythm.

Xiaojun was near. His grip on your thighs tightened as he pounded inside of you, being only a few strokes away from his sweet bliss.

“Come inside of me,” you urged him. It was all it took to make him reach his peak. With a choked grunt, Xiaojun came, buckling his hips as he painted your walls with his release.

You remained silent as Xiaojun breathed heavily, trying to come back to his senses.

“If we’re ever doing it, here, again, I want you to spank me with this,” you commented as you reached for the spatula that sat on the other side of the counter. Xiaojun smirked upon seeing the kitchen utensil, tempted to try it out soon.

However, on second thought, tonight was just good as any other day.

“How about we take it with us over to your place,” Xiaojun proposed, and you cocked your eyebrow, excited to hear his suggestion. “Let’s get you cleaned up first,” he added as he bent down to pick up his apron. His release was dripping down your thighs, so he wiped it off with the fabric, looking rather pleased by the fact that you let him come inside of you.

“That sounds like a plan.”

#xiaojun smut #wayv smut #neosmutcollective #nsckickback #nct smut #xiaojun drabble #wayv drabble #nct drabble

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awanderingdeal · 3 years

Note

73 for Coops?

Hello anon! Thanks for the prompt! I hope you don't mind but this became of a Regulus + Regulus with a side of Sirius.

CW: food mentions, talk of therapy and shitty parenting.

Remus made sure to keep the speed of his chopping even, his eyes trained on the board, only sneaking glances at Regulus every so often. He surreptitiously moved a few more potatoes over to Regulus when he noticed the man was coming to the end of his designated selection of vegetables, not wanting the end of the task, to bring about the end of this conversation.

Regulus had been living with them for just over three months now. He'd been going to therapy for nearly as long, but he rarely mentioned anything to the two of them. Sometimes Leo hinted that Regulus was confiding in him, but Remus knew Sirius still worried.

So now that Regulus was trusting Remus with his concerns about going to college, he didn't want to make the man lose his nerve.

"Yeah, I was pretty sure I wanted to play hockey, or at least I was pretty sure it'd be worth it to keep Maman happy, but I'd barely played 3 minutes of my first game when I knew I hated it. I felt so guilty, even though I had never really said that was what I wanted in the first place. I didn't say no either. They spent all this time and effort and I was just going to throw it away. What if I change my mind about college too? Disappointing my parents was bad enough. I'm not sure I could stand to see that expression on Sirius's face." Regulus words became more and more accented as he spoke, until he set the knife down, looking over at Remus, stress crinkling the corners of his eyes.

Remus smiled, hoping it was reassuring. He squashed the urge to rant about Regulus' parents, knowing that was not what he needed right now.

"You went through all of that alone. And now you don’t need to. Even if you last one day and decide college isn't for you, we'll be here. Sirius isn't proud of you because you're going to school. He's proud of you because you're doing what you want to do." Remus began to pull Regulus into a hug, but stalled when he remembered this wasn't Sirius. Maybe he needed a few more years of therapy, maybe it was just his personality, but whatever the reason, for now, Regulus tended to prefer his affection with a dose of personal space.

Remus felt Regulus tense, but then he let out heavy breath, resting his hand on Remus' arm, halting the withdrawal. He gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug. "You can hug me. If you want."

"I'm honoured," Remus chuckled, taking Regulus up on the offer before he changed his mind. Remus barely had time to consider how far Regulus had come in the last few months, before they were interrupted by the clearing of somebody's throat.

"What's going on here then?" Sirius smiled from the doorway. It wasn't quite a grin, but his eyes seemed to shine anyway.

"Oh nothing, just some brotherly bonding," Remus quipped. "You can come and make yourself useful."

Sirius' eyes wandered to the island, piles of vegetables scattered over it. "That's - a lot of carrots," he raised an eyebrow curiously. He accepted the bowl Remus pressed into his hands, beginning to mix the ingredients together without further instruction.

They chopped and mixed and sauteed onions, the quiet that filled the room compaionable until Sirius broke it. "So, are those hugs going free or.. "

"Or," Regulus deadpanned, chucking a cube of carrot at Sirius' head.

Remus decided to let them have the brotherly banter for a few minutes before he ejected them both from the kitchen. The sound of their laughter and rapid French, so quick he could only catch every third word, coming from the lounge was far superior to a bit of extra help cooking anyway.

#remus lupin #sirius black #regulus black #sweater weather #lumosinlove #cw:food #cw:therapy #cw:shitty parenting

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huskeddevotee · 4 years

Text

Snack preference hcs because I'm bored and love the characters in this stupid game

Amara: Fresh, bright, healthy snacks. Fruit, jello cups, Popsicles - anything cold and refreshing, especially if it's fruity. Loves froyo on her cheat days. Gets strawberry yogurt with cake, more strawberries, and chocolate sauce as her regular.

Ava: Tortilla chips. Could live off of Tortilla chips and some dips. Favorite is Onion dip with hot sauce. Makes a dessert dip of chocolate and caramel that is...controversial to say the least.

Axton: If it's at night, likes a salmon dip with whole wheat crackers. Daytime? Jerky with gravy. Makes his own gravy, family recipe. It's absolutely addicting, everyone tells him he needs to cut the Vault Hunting and bottle that sh*t for market.

Brick: BEEF. BURGER. PATTY. COLD. (It's actually a protein wrap chock full of vitamins but that doesn't work for his reputation)

Maya: Makes killer soup. She makes a huge batch, puts it in the fridge, and pours a cup and puts that into the microwave for a quick bite. Really likes veggie based soups, or soups with seafood.

Moze: Something easy to throw together. It's usually great hang over food. Quesadillas, grilled cheese melts, microwave mac-n-cheese - something filling, savory, and comforting. And yeah, fond of cheese. Also likes peanut butter cookies with black coffee.

Moxxi: Candy. Grandma candy, specifically. Those strawberry things? Is the biggest buyer for them. Licorice is also a favorite. Anything spicy with cinnamon, as well.

Lilith: Gummy candies, cucumbers with tuna or chicken, or some unholy sandwich creation that makes you think she's high. Her tastebuds are f*cked from Phasewalk, now likes peanut butter and jelly with ham and provolone cheese. Her arguement is that peanut butter is savory like ham, and grape jelly is 'pretty much wine' and wine is good with cheese. It's horrible.

Mordecai: Dried meat. What the meat is, no idea. Could be skag, could be human. It's meat, it's impossible to chew, it has no flavor. The popular theory is that it's for Talon and he's softening it in his mouth. As for what he actually eats, likely part plant and feeds off of sunlight. God only knows.

Tina: Rock candy. Loves sour watermelon rock candy. Oh, and also spicy sweet potato chips. And cookies with tea, of course. Likes Chamomile tea and chai.

Zer0: Legends say you can find candy wrappers in their room. They just like cool wrappers. Collect limited edition foodstuffs just for the wrapper or can. Has a wall lined with soda cans with unique patterns.

Zane: Heathen man. Pours spices onto his hand and licks it. Likes stale gummy candy. Licks the salt off of crackers and gives the defiled things to Mr. Chew. Puts cheese and pineapple in shrimp ramen with oregano. Vile, vile, vile.

Krieg: His roasts are to die for, and he eats it cold from the fridge when he's peckish. Uses Pandoran ingredients like cactus honey, salty hail found in glaciers in the tundra, skag bone broth for marinating, and a blend of local herbs and spices. They put Axton's gravy on it one time and had a collective transcendent awakening. The combo is now banned, for anyone who tries it will never enjoy other food again.

Gaige: Girl stalks the clearance section of the bakery in supermarkets for cheap baked goods. Lives off of expired cupcakes.

Tannis: Doesn't snack, but enjoys a cup of tea in between meals. After breakfast, has a green tea. After lunch, chai, and after dinner, chamomile and lavender for bed. Sometimes has a shortbread cookie with it.

Troy: Depends on the week, position of the stars, his horoscope for his moon sign, and the tide. His taste in food cannot be tracked. Goes from eating something bizarrely plain to so complex you think you're having a stroke when you look at it. His inner circle have a game called "What The F*ck Is The God King Eating Now". His personal chefs say they black out when cooking for him. Whatever it is, he doesn't eat anything pre-prepared or from a wrapper. The one time he ate something identifiable, there was a conspiracy he had been replaced by a clone.

Tyreen: One time while she was eating, Troy asked her what she was eating, and she responded, "Your mom" without thinking about it. They didn't speak for a week after the incident and never mentioned it again. Still gets embarrassed about it.

Lorelai: Has not consumed anything but burgers and coffee for months. Please stop her. Her colon is about to pop out of her stomach and strangle her itself.

Hammerlock: Dark rye with tomatoes, basil, fresh mozzarella, and a tall glass of lemonade. It's a snack he's had since he was a boy and it hasn't lost its simple comfort.

Wainright: Fried tomatoes with a coleslaw and peach iced tea. Fried vegetables in general are underrated in his book, despite his father's attempts of trying to get him to accept meat superiority.

Clay: Moonpies and scotch. Time of day doesn't matter. This is bad because its a shot for every pie. And he can put away an absurd amount of them. However, there are only so many shots he can drink before he's pretty much dead to the world.

Fl4k: 101 recipes for birdseed, skag treats, and 'humanfeed' as they call it. Once tried making pancakes for Zane and Moze while they were both sick, gave them food poisoning with nutrient supplements meant for spiderants. The supplements was to boost immune system - hence why it was added - and, unfortunately, venom production. Ergo, making it toxic for humans who do not produce venom. Zane was paler than snow and Moze was beyond delirious. Fl4k felt horrible for months.

Salvador: Makes croquetas in bulk and has a handful when he needs a pick-me-up. Filling varies, but likes them with fish and potato. As for drinks, cannot survive without his grandmother's horchata recipe. Makes it for the whole team whenever it gets cold. Also likes lime soda with pickled vegetables.

Marcus: probably other passengers on the ship

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friends-of-dorothy · 3 years

Text

Béchamel Sauce

(aka white sauce, aka cheese sauce, aka the top layer of a good lasagna)

My cat has recently decided that her favourite place to get a drink is in the shower. That would be fine, but she wanders in there at all hours of the night and leaves muddy paw prints in the bathroom. She’s lucky she’s cute.

Béchamel is what you could call a “mother sauce” if you were into sounding like the food critic from Ratatouille. What it is, most simply, is butter, flour, and milk. Of course, there are other things you can add, but these three ingredients are the essentials.

The word béchamel (bey-sha-mell) is intimidating at first, especially if you’re a starter cook looking to use it as a base for something, but this sauce is far easier than it sounds. So easy in fact, that I’m going to teach you how to make it in the microwave. Let’s go!

Microwave cheese béchamel sauce:

A spoonful of butter

A few twists of cracked pepper (optional)

About three spoonfuls of all purpose flour

About a cup of milk

Two cheese slices

First things first- you need a nice big microwave safe container. The perfect thing to use is a two cup measuring jug.

You also need a microwave safe spoon, or a microwave unsafe spoon and a place to rest your dirty spoon.

Oh! A microwave would be useful too.

Step one:

Add your butter and your pepper to the jug (or other container). Microwave this until the butter has melted, about 20-30 seconds.

Step two:

Slowly add your flour, a bit at a time. Keep going until you have a thick paste with no lumps. Congratulations! You have made a ~white roux~

Step three:

Next, slowly add your milk, making sure that you don’t go above the three quarter mark of your jug. If you aren’t sure how much milk you should add, go with less. You can always add more later.

Stir vigorously until the butter paste has considered mixing into the milk.

Step four:

The mixture won’t all combine until the milk is warm, so back into the microwave. You’ll need to keep stirring it, so stop it every minute and a half to two minutes to pull the jug out and stir the sauce. You’re waiting for the point when the milk is warm enough that it is smooth and the butter-flour is gone. This usually takes around five minutes, depending on the microwave.

Step five:

Cheese time! Now you have nice warm milk, the sauce can have the cheese added. Tear bits off your cheese slices as you add them to the jug so they melt easier. Give the sauce a bit of a stir to encourage the cheese, then back in the microwave. Keep checking on it and stirring it until the cheese has completely melted and (more importantly) it has started to boil.

Pause! What consistency is your sauce?

Too thin- That’s fine! It will thicken in the next step.

It’s fine- Great! Continue on.

Too thick- Add more milk! It will only get thicker in the next step, so add a bit more milk until you think the consistency is fine and then put it back in the microwave until it boils again.

Step six:

All of the ingredients are in, and the cooking is done. Now, let your sauce rest for a while until it’s thickened up a bit. It may form a bit of a skin on top- don’t worry, that will melt back into the sauce. just let the sauce sit until you need it.

Step seven:

Reheat the sauce by stirring it and putting it back in the microwave and letting it run until it starts to boil again, or seems hot enough. It doesn’t need to boil during this step. Now your sauce is ready to use!

Oh? You don’t know what to use it on? Okay, here’s some suggestions!

Broccoli and cauliflower

A classic accompaniment to a roast, just pour it over you vegetables and enjoy your cauliflower having taste for once.

Alternatively, pour it over the vegetables of any fussy kid and watch them transform into a not fussy kid.

This recipe could cover about four people, or five if you skimp.

Alternatively, you could cover two people very well and then eat the leftover sauce straight out of the jug.

Crumbed cauliflower

This is more a shared dinner table piece.

Get a whole cauliflower and roast it.

Pour béchamel sauce over the top and sprinkle with breadcrumbs of your chosen flavour (garlic! use garlic!)

Put back in the oven to toast your breadcrumbs.

Ta da! It’s impressive on the table and it tastes great.

Lasagna

Not enough people use béchamel sauce on top of lasagna at home, especially considering thats how it’s usually made.

Instead of using just ordinary cheese, use béchamel instead. It’s that simple, just pour on top and enjoy a superior lasagna.

It’s also good with most other forms of pasta bake.

Vol au Vents/Pies/Pasties

That’s just a fancy way of saying ‘puff pastry cases’ don’t worry about it.

Béchamel is great with a white protein and creamed corn, spooned into a vol au vent case and baked.

It’s so good and I miss it.

This used to be my favourite dish as a kid! Then Coles stopped selling the right size of vol au vent shell.

Oh right the pies and pasties. Thats the same principle, go nuts! It’ll taste good, it’s cheese and pastry.

Macaroni and Cheese

Macaroni and béchamel sauce, then add more cheese. yessssss

There are other ways you can make béchamel sauce, or course. Lots of recipes use mustard powder and nutmeg, and some even flavour the milk before using it in the sauce! It is primarily a sauce to be used as a base, so don’t be afraid to mess around with it.

It’s also very good to prepare early, so it sits while you do all the other, more time consuming things. That or you decide the nearest child isn’t busy enough and set them on the task of stirring the sauce for you.

Hey, how’d you think I learnt this recipe in the first place?

#cooking #food #food blog #foodblr #yummy #easy recipes #savoury #sauce #recipe #vegetarian #vegetarian recipe #vegetarian cooking #french #french cuisine #bechamel sauce #bechamel #microwave #kay

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jiminrings · 4 years

Note

I'll show you~ Can I please get a drabble of Yoongi as a roommate? Because I think that'd be an amazing IDEA- like srsly, he'd be the one to tell u to wake him early for his work stuff and then get grumpy in the morning and refuse to even moVE out of the bed and u have to bribe him with something to wake him up for hiS WORK. And he will most likely say "no" to any chores in the house but still do aLL of them nonetheless. aND though he hates hugs on occasions he might even ask for cuddles???

across the living room

pairing: yoongi x y/n

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: you’re yoongi’s alarm clock, he aLWAYS acts that you’d be the bane of his existence, and his cooking actually tastes good if he wakes up early enough for it!!

notes: thank u so much for ur request baby i have nevEr written something so fast ever in my life because i was so :’’)

yoongi isn’t necessarily a bad roommate

of course nOt!!

because bad is relative and everyone has different variations of a bad roomie

he wasn’t messy or anything like that

it’s just the occasional clutter that he’d clean up himself

he isn’t rude either

well okay “rude” is aLSO relative

just because yoongi could be a little condescending most times

like when yOU do the grocery shopping and the first thing he’d do is look through the bags with some certain hums of approval

nice nice you picked the kimchi that wasn’t on sale because it was gonna expire the very next week like what you did with the last time

your picking and judgement for carton eggs are actually improving!!!

yoongi once called you an idiot for not smelling the carton of eggs first and in your defense you were in a hURRY

ok but he do be right they did stink the last time

hmmmm decent snacks

“why did you get this milk? i already told you to buy the other brand!! it has like a difference of three dollars and gOd if you’re short on it then ask me for it”

can that be called rude and condescending <3

or after yoongi’s milk tirade, he then goes picking at the other groceries you’ve gotten

you got less greens this time because if you’re being honest you’re getting sICK of seeing spinach and celery all the damn time

you’re the one who mostly cooks anyways and yoongi still insists that you use them

you could have a bagel for breakfast and hE’D PUT SPINACH ON IT

you’re getting a bit fed up with the color green nowadays so you got more fruits than vegetables!! frozen berries and yogurt are the superior match!!

there’s the “too-sweet diabetes are you trying to kill yourself y/n look at the nutrition fACTS” cereal

the “we have an obsessive amount of chocolate-covered almonds. stop it already. i’ll throw this out i’m not even kidding” almonds

the “why did you buy three boxes they’re all the same thing it’s not even delicious anyway” mozzarella sticks

the “this tastes like cardboard i swear why won’t you just get the individual ingredients that i told you to” cake mix

and of course

the “why did you buy tampons already? napkins, also?? it’s not even your period yet” tam-

wait a minute

... h-hold on

did yoongi really just

you must have froze and he must have noticed too because well that’s a surprise you’re nOt huffing with his digs

“you knOW my cycle???”

he doesn’t really know why it’s such a big deal that he shrugs at your pointless question and just continues piling on the cupboards

“yeah, don’t you?”

b-but

wHAT

“i don’t even tell you wHEN i get my period!! why do you know that??”

“you don’t need to tell me, stupid.”

ok rude

but seconds of all hOW does he know

you can’t even talk about yourself to yoongi or even tell him how your day went because he’s just.,.,.

yoongi could sense the internal meltdown in your head and he just chuckles because you’re entirely clueless

or maybe he’s just extremely observant of you without even noticing

there’s a pile of paper bags that the two of you keep because rECYCLING <3

and he always sees atleast one or two disappearing from the pile when you have your period because you’re nOt just gonna discard it to the communal trash can

you’re not a monster!!!

the snacks go by a little more quickly this time

you’re a little mORE demanding but just a little

like when yoongi has the news on when you eat dinner and you’re side-eyeing him

ok he’s already turned the volume down

you still look irritated at him

“.... y’want me to change the channel?”

lol and you have a zit somewhere on your face that yoongi could point out but he chooses not to

instead he just leaves around his box of pimple patches lying somewhere and you dOn’t scold him for that and you know what

maybe you’ll stick some to your face you deserve it ok

it’s affirmative that you’re rEALLY shocked to how yoongi explained all this to you effortlessly

“i bought them because it was a buy one take one deal :((“

that’s all he could hear from you as you mumble under your breath because now you’re just speechless

wow

your roommate cares about you,,,,

MIN YOONGI CARES ABOUT YOU :D

care may be a little bit of a reach from observing but it’s okay you dOn’t care lol they’re probably synonyms anyway

there’s good days!!!

those are probably your happiest days when yoongi initiates a conversation with you that doesn’t involve him intentionally pissing you off

or when you can make him laugh and he looks like the most adorable being EVER you swear

you tried taking pictures of him but he has a radar for it and he immediately holds out his hand to reach out for your phone and effectively cover him

that’s all you have

pictures with yoongi’s hand on focus and him blurred in the background

adjusting to yoongi’s rhythm always varies because well he dOes vary

there’s days when he completely deadpans at you for no apparent reason at all

or when you just need someone to squeal with!!

like that time you got the highest score at an exam that was claimed to be difficult and you were jumping up and down while trying to shake up yoongi

and he looked annoyed for some reason and him not sharing your sentiment,, probably even hating it,, already put a dampener in your mood :((

or that time you went on an angry monologue of why he won’t contribute to doing the chores and how you do everything

from sweeping the floors and doing the dishes and taking out the trash and even cooking!!!

you even fold the clothes and you can’t even remember how yoongi managed to convince you to fold his clothes too

with that he just pursed his lips before putting his attention back to his phone

“no.”

unbeknownst to you though, yoongi does his share of chores more evidently this time around

most times he just does his part when you’re in your room and lately he’s been slacking

ok i’ll help you out i guess ://

sometimes you just want to do nice things for yoongi okay

there’s already a set routine that you follow and adapated to for his sake

you now wake up at four in the morning for hIM and that just depends if he’d wake up within the next thirty minutes

the first actual “friend” unlike roommate intercation you had was yoongi telling you to go knock on his door early in the morning

absolutely dON’T stop knocking until he wakes up and opens the door

sure his four in the morning compared to you staying in is a much much mUch earlier time

but it’s okay because it’s for yoongi! :D

the first time you did that? yoongi raised his voice at you because wHY ARE YOU KNOCKING ON MY DOOR???

“b-but you told me to!!”

“oh. right. thanks.”

lmao he kinda simmered down after that and you took this job to heart

you have now evolved into cooking breakfast BEFORE knocking on his door

you just care for yoongi perhaps

but you won’t delve into elaborating that just yet

today’s breakfast was waffles!!

but they’re special waffles of course!! kinda like a s’mores situation in between the two

little marshmallows that you put in your ice cream and in your drinks and within two seconds they shrivel up into nothingness

crushed biscuits that resemble graham and maybe it would be easier if you just buy graham crackers itself lol

of cOurse some chocolate chips!!

they’re leftovers from when you decided to buy a big bag of them

and yoongi asked you on wHy the hell did you buy these in this huge quantity

“i’ll melt them because i aLSO got those silicone molds on sale!! including the stars and the seashells!!”

“you do know that these are solid... and you’ll melt them into liquid... only for them to be in the same way you bought them in..... just in a different shape....”

“oh my gOd yoongi just because you’re accurate doesn’t mean you’re interesting!! fine then, i’ll split these with jimin instead”

“did you even ask if i wanted them in the first place???”

anyways besides those waffles lol

you also made dalgona :D instead of yoongi’s preferred dark black coffee :D

you tasted his one time and it tasted like death and liver and charcoal all at the same time

this is a GOOD morning okay??

last night you couldn’t sleep that well because you had a thought

a really, intricate, awe-forming thought

there’s such a thing called work husbands, right??

do apartment husbands exist

lol of course if your husband does live in the same apartment as you do

you’re probably making a reach and yoongi doesn’t care about you in the same way that you do for him

but it just makes you think :((

these things that you’re doing, with and for him....

they’re things that you do with your boyfriend ya know

you’re essentially a couple if you think about it further

you’re under the same roof and you do things together and well

the only thing missing is the aCTUAL commitment itself

this was why it’s a good morning

jimin, your friend that’s just down at the end of the hall, managed to convince you to try and hINT atleast that you like yoongi

to be clear

you’ve only known jimin for three weeks and you feel like you’ve done much more progress with him than you ever did with yoongi for five months

it was when he asked you for your notes and you told him that lol you had nONE and the both of you just laughed for like five minutes straight

yoongi still won’t buy that story no matter how much you tell him that it’s true

with his hunch he thinks you’re actually fuck buddies with jimin because you’ve been sneaking off at night right when he closes his door and tHAT’S when you go to jimin’s room

to be also clear

ok yes you might like yoongi

perhaps a whole ton as what you decide because he’s been effectively plaguing your mind and your senses

and the oNLY reason you’ve been going to jimin’s is to talk to him and freak out on what you should do

because you know that yoongi is a sensible person and if u give him even the slightesy whiff of a hint that you like him, he’ll catch on instantly!!!

at the same time it’s like.... so be it....

yeah if yoongi doesn’t return your feelings then you’ll completely understand

things would be awkward for awhile aha

and if yoongi decides to move out because of you? no problem yOU’RE the one who’s gonna move out and let yoongi keep the apartment

jimin’s roommate is leaving soon anyway

see? you’re already equipped for rejection!!!!

aha that’s not necessarily a bad thing but it IS a heartbreaking concept

but here you are

so whipped to the point that you might just cave and put everything in a tray so you could set it on yoongi’s bed

that does seem to be the case because you’re knocking and knocking and he wON’T answer

this is an important day for him anyways because he gets his evaluation today!! and you can’t have him late and hungry and sad now can you

“yOONGI ARE YOU-“

“god, why do you have to be so loud??”

“i told you-“

wait a second

that voice doesn’t belong to yoongi

and the person in front of you, most certainly, isn’t yoongi.

oh that’s nice

she’s wearing yoongi’s shirt from the night before

you don’t recall someone else being in your apartment because after all, you and yoongi are the only roommates

and that yoongi doesn’t even have any visitors

it takes a second for you to connect the dots at hand

it’s okay :)

it’s cool!

this way you’re already heartbroken without prolonging it and bringing it upon yourself

it was bound to happen anyway

yoongi was more than a handsome and skilled and capable man and someone like him wouldn’t stay single for perhaps forever

“o-oh, sorry. uhm help yourself to breakfast, or uhm go back to bed, i guess. if you could just, w-wake up yoongs? i think he has something important at work today, oR well atleast he told me so.”

holy fuck

that was a mess

you’re a mess

there’s no need for confrontation or researching or anything like that because there is absolutely no reason for it lol

you’re a mere roommate to yoongi and you’re just acting like it.

he finds you weird these days

you’re not... bothering him

you’re not trying to linger around or pester him with your usual presence

you only come out when you’re going out for class or for work or for something else he can’t even imagine

which was weird

because yoongi oddly enough misses the white noise you provide

he knocked at your door yesterday and he wasn’t really sure on what to say so he panicked and said “aren’t you supposed to vacuum today?”

which is actually true!!!!

you just got the vacuum and your..,., earphones???

and put them in????

wait shouldn’t this be the time that you try to talk over the vacuum and ineffectively yell as you try to make conversation with him???

this time you’re just silent and probably enjoying the music that’s playing and yoongi couldn’t be anymore confused

he goes to his room when you vacuum but this time he stayed just because he wanted to test the waters ok

he didn’t put his feet up so you could vacuum underneath

he just got one tap on his calf and he wordlessly complies aND HE DOESN’T KNOW WHY HE DID IT SO EASILY

he was supposed to bicker with you :(((

did he... do something??

well he didn’t forget to take the trash out and made sure not to flood the showers this time

fuck it fine that’s IT

he even cooked dinner tonight and he knocked at your door and those are two rare occurrences in the sAME sentence

“y/n, don’t make me regret doing this.”

that’s an empty threat ok he really just wanted to cook for himself and coincidentially made enough for another portion for you

or atleast that’s what he convinces himself

yoongi reaches the end of his wick and he’s about to look for one of your hairpins and pick at your lock

one thing he hasn’t taken into account is that oh,,, your door’s open

there wasn’t really a reaction when your door creaks but there is one but it’s from hIM

because you’re bundled in your comforter and you look different and that’s when he presses his hand to your forehead and you’re tOO HOT

“why didn’t you tell me that you have a fever??”

there’s no room for him to enunciate him being upset because he’s worriedly getting you things to nurse you back to health ok

there’s the wet towels and the water and the medicine!!!

there’s him checking underneath your comforter and you dOn’t have any socks on so he’s getting that alright

yoongi’s third most-prized possession probably is his gravity blanket he spent a pretty penny on and here he is,,, carrying it over to you so you’d be more comfortable — the food he just made you but maybe he should make some soup for you to easily digest

yoongi just felt pure panic seeing you like this ok

you running a fever and being the complete opposite of bubbly but won’t take shit atleAst 5/7 times from him and would argue with him to hell and back

were you starting to get sick the days before so that’s why you were distant??

or was it the other way around

there’s this utmost feeling of concern looming in yoongi’s chest and he even tried clutching at his chest because what iS this

he almost forgot that you’re sleeping and that you barely talked to him at all despite helping you out of his own accord

“you’re here but you’re not yOu!!!”

god he’s just so frustrated because he isn’t used to this and frankly he’ll never be

yoongi’s chewing on his inner cheek and he knits his brows trying to figure wHAT happened, his index finger poking and tracing at your hand that’s laid snugly on your pillow

“you’re already here but why do i keep missing you?”

312 notes · View notes

astraeass · 3 years

Text

[1] start once again;

[cross-posted in ao3 • fem reader]

pairing: levi ackerman/reader (first three chapters doesn’t have Levi at all tho..)

warnings: cursing, talks about adoption, panic attack, dissociative amnesia

words: 2145

Summary:

you just wanted to know the truth, so why not be a reckless dumbass and join the scouts

"I’m joining the survey corps"

Laria froze, she couldn’t believe what her sweet, little girl was saying.

Wait, she’s not her sweet little girl anymore.

"What..?"

"You heard me Laria, I’m pretty sure you know what does that means, right?"

"[Y/N] please you can't do this to me... you can’t do this to David!"

"Or what..?"

You know this is cruel, you totally know, but your current desire to go outside the walls and see what the fuck is happening dominated your thoughts.

Laria fell to her knees, staring at the floor, apparently the old wood texture was more interesting for her than what you wanted to say.

With a deep sigh, you kneeled before her, holding her shoulders softly, when noticing your presence, Laria almost instantly grabbed yours in an opposite manner, with a tight and aggressive hold.

"[Y/N]... please don’t do this, tha-that’s suicide!"

You looked at her pale green orbs with intensity, sending her a sign that no matter what, your choice will not change that easily

"If you want me to stay, I just want to know from where I actually am, tell me Laria"

The older woman flinched, it was such a foreign sensation to hear her name coming from her daughter.

Silence.

"I..."

Laria looked down her palms closing and opening with hesitation.

"I don’t know"

You rolled your eyes standing up, you couldn’t take more of this bullshit.

Laria without your hands supporting her shoulders, fell down. Tears falling down her cheeks and meeting the creaking floor no long after.

"You are telling me you adopted me without knowing where the fuck I am from?"

The only sound you could hear were Laria's sobs, you know she’s trying to control them, but she can’t hold them a second more.

"You know I’m not from inside the walls...?"

More silence.

You don’t really know what’s going on in Laria's mind right know, her face was hiding in the floor, it was impossible to see the expression of shock in her usual calm features

"What...?”

Her voice was cracking again, that sent a pang to your heart. After all, she and her husband David were the ones who raised you.

But, you will move on.

You need to move on.

"I want to know from where I am, that’s why I’m joining the survey corps. I’ll go outside the walls"

Your turned away from her, slowly walking to the door you recently came from, without looking back, because you knew that you wouldn’t be able to continue forward if you see her pained expression again.

24 hours before;

It was another normal day, you were going to the market, David, your father, needed some fresh tomatoes for the plate he was cooking today. Even thought your butlers could go out and buy them for him, you insisted enough, just like always.

"You started being a really stubborn girl since you came to the world, [Y/N]" Said David with a smirk in his face when you managed to convince him. This time was harder, it was like he was scared about me going outside, it was... strange.

You loved going outside.

The chattering from people doing their chores, the sun's bright light and slight breeze softly caressing your skin brought you to a state of comfort that made you unconsciously smile.

After a short walk, you reached your destination, a small stand that sold fresh ingredients, most of them vegetables. You weren’t fond of their taste at all, but the smell was added to your list of comfort ambience.

"Hey [Y/N]! You’re doing the shopping today again?"

You nodded to the old woman, she was already used to your presence and usual shopping. You maybe were outside way too much

"Yes, Miss Anderson! However this time was harder to convince my father, I think it’s because I’m getting older"

After grabbing the necessary quantity David asked for and payed for it, you followed the way to go to home, this time you went faster, an uneasy feeling wandered you for a strange reason, making you want to go home as fast as possible.

However, a familiar voice made you stop in your tracks.

"Claire wait a minute!"

You turned around when you heard your last name and meet big bright blue eyes, a tall form with broad shoulders. He was person of your age and apparently he was panting a little, it seemed that he ran for you to catch you before you decided to go home.

Erwin Smith, the golden boy in your class.

You didn’t know a lot from him, you just knew that his father died when he was younger coincidentally after he spread some rumors about what’s outside the walls, oh and that he was a little bit older than you.

Not that you care anyways.

"Erwin, what do you need?"

After gaining some air after running for you, he handed you a little bag with some money that you recognized as what David gave you for the tomatoes

"This fell from your pocket and I couldn’t help but notice that I was from you"

"...Thank you"

The both of you stood there, an awkward silence invaded your comfort, and that bothered you a lot. You were a quiet person since you were small, so it was always hard for you to start a conversation but ended up getting used to it.

This was so embarrassing.

"I can walk you to your home, if you want to"

"No"

You didn’t even hesitate and continued with your way back home.

"Thank you again, uh.. I’ll get going"

And with that you left, you were close to your house anyways. But a feeling of regret started to eat you up. You hated your boldness.

that’s why you don’t make friends [Y/N]...

However, Erwin didn’t actually move from his spot, he decided to stay there watching your form slowly decrease its size. There was something strange about you.

He was finding it out.

;;

You finally reached home, opening the big doors of you house, don’t caring if your maids scolded you for doing it because it was their job.

"[Y/N] how much times we need to tell you that you don’t need to open the doors?"

Giselle, the head maid told you for the nth time this week with an already annoyed look. It was getting irritating, couldn’t anyone see you were trying to be independent?

You just passed by, Giselle after all wasn’t way too much older than you, her mother worked for your family for a long time, so she just got her title thanks to her, which to you, was an error since she sometimes thought a superiority aura would intimidate you.

At first you thought she was jealous, but why? Your looks? Your sharp but at the same time soft features are beautiful, they contrasted perfectly. Mayhap your intelligence? ...no.

This is ridiculous.

"[Y/N] sweetheart, you’re already home?"

Laria with David at her side interrupted your thoughts, making you jump a little and hoping that they didn’t notice.

David Claire was a tall man, strawberry blond curly and slightly long hair, usually tied up in a low ponytail and his chocolate dark wide shaped eyes complemented his face very well.

Meanwhile Laria Claire has her platinum blond almost white hair trimmed in a bob cut, her light chubby face was cute, but her sharp hazel eyes kind of scared you sometimes, the way her bangs sometimes covered them didn’t help at all.

But you.. you were strange, preciously strange, a girl unique with unique features.

Way too unique.

"Yes, I didn’t need to buy a lot of things"

You approached your kitchen, leaving the bag were you carried the tomatoes besides David, him sending you a sweet thankful smile. When you were bringing your hands to your pockets, you felt a bulge, noticing that it was the little bag that Erwin picked up from were it fell.

"Oh, I almost forgot giving your money back father, where do I leave it?" You asked playing with the bag bouncing it between your hands

David chuckled seeing your cute mannerisms and pointed upstairs. "Just leave it in my office, inside the first drawer if you can, please" He looked at you with pleading eyes.

Huh...?

You nodded, grabbing the money bag before it fell and headed upstairs. Wondering why your father gave you that look, he seemed even desperate for you to place the pouch back. David's office was the last one in the hall, giving you more time to think about what just happened.

Entering the room, you expect something coming out for you. How dumb. Slowly, you went to the desk and opened the first drawer, inside a paper with your name and another last name.

[Y/N] [L/N]

[L/N]...? What.

The money pouch you were holding, fell down because you were holding it tightly, the force increasing the more you read the coins falling everywhere and making a loud noise that probably reached your parents in the kitchen. Shit.

Before picking up and collecting the coins you fell down on your knees, an heavy headache suddenly hitting you.

I’m.. I can’t I’m not an object

Why did they sell me..?

You were lying down the floor of a carriage, the wet and cold wood hugged your soft cheek. The rocky path making your body jump from time to time. Your wrists and ankles were tied tightly, you moved a bit, but it burnt. You also had some type of clothing around your mouth preventing you to scream for help.

The only thing keeping you conscious was the beautiful nature you could see by a hole in the cloth that was hiding your body from the outside world so no one could see that the carriage had a kidnapped girl in the back.

It was beautiful, pink... trees? A large body of water that reflected the mountains and the full bright moon. The mountains had some snow at the top since it was very white. However you couldn’t see a lot more since your vision started to fade.

You suddenly gasped loudly, opening your eyes widely. Your hands were gripping your hair with a strong hold and you barely noticed you were crying after seeing some wet spots in the floor below you. What.. was that?

"[Y/N]"

The voice of your fath- no. The voice of David startled you, making you look up him with a tear stained face. His eyes sending you pity.

You hated that.

You stood up rapidly pushing past him with so much force, that it made him fall on his butt, you were about to help him but as fast as you stood, you face contorted in anger leaving the office to run to your room.

Closing you door behind you and locking it up, you turned your back to your door, supporting yourself on it and carefully sliding till you sat in the floor, bringing your knees to your face and hiding it.

No, you weren’t crying, you were confused, you were angry. Why that memory decided to appear in that exact moment? To much in such a short amount of time.

You expected David or even Laria to come and knock to her door to see if they cared. They didn’t. Was that also part of your illusion? The loved and cared for you... right?

Not that you cared, again.

Next day, after coming for whatever your were doing, probably just spacing out, collecting your thoughts. You confronted Laria, apparently David didn’t tell her about your little panic attack, it was heartbreaking, he wasn’t even there.

The more you walked from your house, the more determined you were to join the scouts. You’ll finally know your origin, it didn’t matter if it was tragic or not, your curiosity apparently won. How sad.

;;

"So yeah... that was pretty much what happened"

You didn’t expect meeting Erwin when joining the training corps, however it didn’t surprise you at all. What really surprised you is his look of amazement in his eyes when telling your story.

The bright look being more noticeable when he was listening to your theory of yourself not being from inside the walls.

"I know Smith, the idea is basically impossible, it could be a dream, y'know those fiction ones" you said after seeing how he kept on silence after some minutes when you told him what happened in your household not long ago.

Nothing.

"Could you say something? This is awkward as fuck"

Erwin pupils widened, he's back to the real world. His expression know shooting you an apologetic smile, making you frown.

"My apologies [L/N], I was in my own mind. I’m sorry all of tha-"

"Don’t pity me, I did it myself"

Next Chapter

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader

16 notes · View notes

unatempesta-dipensieri · 4 years

Text

Red Moon

banner done by the wonderful @dee-ehn (thank you bb)

pairing: OT7 x reader

genres: poly!au, fallen angels!au, demons!au

word count: 2095

warnings: feathers falling from the structure of their wings, leaving a very ugly structure (not described in detail), minor character death

ACT 1, CHAPTER 01

Small impetuous drops rumbled in the pine forest, in the silence only that continuous jingle was audible. The wood is very large and extends over an enormous arch of territory, surrounded by very high white mountains for recent snowfalls. The smell of resin, fir and musk was added to the sweet and relaxing sound of the drops falling on the pines. The landscape was wrapped in a solemn silence, the animals seeking shelter, the pine trees motionless since there was no wind. The whole expanse was colorful with various greens, from light to some dark shades. In the undergrowth, small bushes and moss reigned. On the ground only pine needles, fallen over the years. Suddenly a dazzling light, a noise rang out in the valley, the most intense rain and the amplified noises. A stream of water rushed beyond the valley and swelled visibly as the small drops increased. Namjoon was still lying on the ground, his body was too heavy and numb to allow him to stand up and seek shelter. He tried to move his head slightly to look around and to see if the others were beside him, but his neck hurt. He had taken a hit, so he stopped and closed his eyes, thinking about why he was in that place.

It all started when Yoongi saw that girl. He saw her run through the crowded streets of New York, with headphones in her ears that let out classical music. He had fallen in love with watching her play the piano, her diaphanous white fingers moved gracefully on the piano keys, while a sweet symphony echoed in the room where she was.

The second to see it was Seokjin; he saw her with several plastic bags in her hands, as she tried to go up to the fifth floor of the building. She almost fell from the cloud she was on when she saw that the girl was about to fall down the stairs when she was wrong to put her foot down but was saved by another human who was a few steps away from her. After a few minutes, he saw her enter her apartment and start putting away all the ingredients or products she needed for the home. He loved the fact that she was neat and that she loved to cook.

The third was Hoseok. He saw her while she was teaching girls ballet. Hoseok, besides the angels, had never seen such a beautiful and graceful creature. She managed to be so elegant even when the little creatures made a wrong move, she always smiled and if necessary she explained again every single move to those girls who couldn't understand or perform the exercise; but she also loved the fact that when she wanted to, she knew how to be serious and was able to put back those who did not follow her rules.

The fourth was Namjoon. He saw her walking with a bag over her shoulder in Central Park. Already the fact that the girl liked the vegetation had made the archangel's heart beat a lot. He saw her sit on a bench, and after taking a book out of her bag, start reading. He saw how she began to isolate herself, perhaps, recreating the scenes from the book in his mind. Namjoon could not help but stare at her with a smile on his face.

The fifth was Jimin, although a little hesitant in looking at a human who was not what the superiors had chosen at all. He perched on a cloud and looked at her with bored eyes. He spent several days looking at her until he understood why the others were so taken with her. Looking at her, he understood that she had a pure heart and soul, perhaps even too pure not to be an angel. He fell in love with her innocence and her smile; perhaps, he had never seen such a bright smile in all his years of service.

The sixth was Taehyung, who used the excuse of looking at the human as a moment of relax from the addict of his chosen one. He needed to breathe and to stop watching his chosen drug and slowly bring himself to death, that's why as soon as Namjoon asked who wanted to watch her, Taehyung did not think twice. He loved how the hair strands were arranged, which protruded from the tail, behind the ear, of how, when she had the chance, she went to see some art shows, or when she painted and stained, who knows how, her face.

The last but not least, at least for them, was Jungkook. The youngest of them and the newest. He had fallen in love with a nice and sunny girl like her. He loved the fact that, like him when he was still alive, she found time to play video games, train in the gym, but still managed to find space for friends. He knew that humans were running constantly. He understood that by seeing his chosen one. Single mother of two children, the ex-husband cheated on her with a colleague and gave her up in no uncertain terms, to then go to Norway with the other woman. It was something he hated. Betrayal.

The betrayal was just what he expected of all seven.

An angel heard a conversation that all seven were having and ran to one of the superiors telling him everything he had heard. They didn't even have time to rebel that in no time they were in the room where the Superiors met and discussed very important matters.

"Cherubino Namjoon, I never expected such behavior from you," said one of the elders. If Jimin remembered well he had to be called Jaehyung but he was not very sure.

"And what would I do?" Namjoon asked raising his head and looking at him defiantly.

"I heard that you seven have fallen in love with a human," said the superior, smiling at him, showing him his white teeth.

The boys widened their eyes, their hearts started to beat wildly. They could not speak, perhaps because they were caught in the act. Yoongi clenched his jaw thinking about who might have heard their private discussion.

"Seraphin Seokjin -continued the superior- you know that these emotions are not part of the angels, but of the demons!" he screamed the last word in panic, had wide eyes and a crazy smile, while looking at Seokjin, who remained impassive.

The Superior was about to insult Jungkook when the main door opened. "What do you want now?" he screamed as soon as he saw an Angel enter.

"Sir, we did what you ordered," said the newcomer, bowing.

"Well," said the Seraphin, then turned to the seven angels. "Surely you are wondering what I asked him to do. I ordered him to kill her while she slept. A quick and painless death. "

The Seraphin never expected such a violent reaction, especially from Seraphin Seokjin. He jumped up and threw himself against his body, squeezing his neck with his hands.

"How dare you! And you are the ones who say you love independently and that you are better than demons, but you are worse than them! As soon as a human creates the slightest problem, you get it out of the way! Jaehyung, remember my words, I will make you go through the pains of hell, I will make you die of a slow and painful death! " Seokjin shouted in anger.

Even the others had never seen him in those conditions. His neck and face were completely red, his hands that were still around Jaehyung's neck trembled and his eyes were filled with tears, as were theirs. In an instant the guards seized Seokjin and stopped him with golden chains, preventing him from moving.

Jaehyung got up and after adjusting his white tunic, looked at the boys, then smiled.

"I, Archangel Jaehyung, in the name of God, cause the Cherubino Namjoon, the Seraphim Seokjin, the Throne Yoongi, the Domination Hoseok, the Archangel Jimin, the archangel Taehyung and the angel Jungkook, to be exiled from Paradise for eternity. May Hell welcome you," said the Archangel and with a snap of fingers it began.

Pain began. They could feel their wings cracking, their heads hurting and their stomach turning over. Hoseok looked towards Jimin, and saw the younger bent forward while holding his head in his hands, the wings were completely bare and writhing taking a really bad position, all the white feathers were still bleeding on the ground while in their place, black feathers were growing. He looked at Namjoon and saw that the color of his eyes had changed to a color he could not define, but he looked like a mixture of light orange and yellow, his white hair had become a light lilac. Maybe his partners's hair had changed too but he had no reflective surface to see himself in.

When the wings changed completely, they felt the floor crumble under their feet and fell on deaf ears. Jungkook opened his eyes just when his body crossed a cloud, he tried to stop and trying to flap his wings but a twinge of pain ran all over his body. He looked to the sides and saw that the boys were beside him, Seokjin held the hands of Jimin and Taehyung, while Hoseok held his and Yoongi's. But who was holding Namjoon's hand? He looked slightly further and saw that Namjoon was still passed out, he tried to tell Yoongi to hold Namjoon's hand, but when they crossed a large cloud, he didn't saw him again.

Then the crash came in no time. The good thing was that it was raining like never before so humans would have thought that the sound of their fall was a thunder nearby.

****

Hours passed, the first ray of light illuminated the valley which took on a magical aspect. Everything was now visible: the high white mountains with various clouds full of humidity, the pine forest and the river.

Namjoon opened his eyes still dull and heard rapid steps towards him, perhaps someone was running to help him.

"Namjoon!" Seokjin entered his vision followed by Taehyung, who began to dig to free his body of the earth and the mud that had covered it. He tried to speak but only guttural lines came out of his mouth.

"Hyung, don't try! Keep drinking the water we found at a nearby stream! " Jungkook said approaching his cup-shaped hands.

Hyung? What word was it? What did it mean?

"I know you're asking yourself many things but first we have to get you out of here," Seokjin said giving him a reassuring smile. The oldest, along with the youngest, had always had this reassuring soul, which managed to calm the other five.

"Black looks good on you," Namjoon whispered when he started focusing. “Thanks hyung! Lilac is fine for you instead, ”Jungkook replied with a smile. "What is this hyung, you keep calling?" Namjoon asked looking him in the eye.

"Since I have been dead for about two, three years I think things have not changed much, hyung is used by males to call another boy who is older than him, therefore of logic, I should call you all hyung, to show respect, ”said Jungkook, continuing to remove the mud that had trapped one of the older's legs.

After the two freed him, they gave him a hand to get up and clean himself of the residues that had remained on his clothes and face. "So what do we do now?" Jimin asked, attracting the attention of others. "Let's start walking in search of civilization," Yoongi replied.

They didn't know how long they walked when they started hearing car noises. Taehyung passed a bush and had to close his eyes when a light blinded him. It was the headlights of a car passing by.

"Anyone know what place this is?" he asked when the others had joined him. "This ... this is Seoul, we are in South Korea," replied Jungkook and then continued: "This is the city that brought me to end my life, it shouldn't have changed much and I still remember some things,"

"So what are you waiting for? Show us the way angel, ”Hoseok said putting a hand on his shoulder. Jungkook nodded and the others followed him breathlessly. It would have been an adventure in teaching kids how to behave among humans and how to use the simplest things, like taking a bus.

#kwritersworldnet #kpopuniversenet #bangtanhq #bighitcity #thehouseofbangtan #bts #bts poly #bts poly au #bts supernatural au #bts jungkook #bts jimin #bts jhope #bts rapmonster #bts suga #bts taehyung #bts jin

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cherryyjjk · 4 years

Text

burnt sweets

summary: you’re finally the royal chef! this has been your dream since you were a kid so you must be super prepared right? stressed and tired, you might have kept the oven open for too long..

pairing: knight! jungkook x baker! reader x prince! taehyung (platonic?)

genre: heavy angst / fluff / crack / medieval! au

word count: 5.1k

warnings: [ tw // FIRE , heavy pain/hurt , scarring ] / cursing / trapped in a collapsed building that’s on fire. please be careful reading.

a/n: i tried my best to do this gender neutral but if i missed something please tell me. the word mx is a gender neutral term for mister/miss type honorifics. i also used lowercase on purpose because i meant this to be a blurb haha,,, enjoy!

the food would never be finished. or at least that’s what you felt like.

you were the newest chef for the kim royal family and needed to finish— or rather start cooking and making dishes for the feast, only a few nights away. you were on limited time and were becoming increasingly frustrated. you were low on sleep and almost had no time from running to the market every few moments because you forgot a specific ingredient. your old mentor and the old royal head chef, kim seokjin, had been sending you letters about this event since he knew you so well. he advised that if you could cook up the older dishes it would make a good impression. he was also the one who had promoted you from sous chef to head chef, so you owed him everything. but that didn’t mean you couldn’t get mad at him for this.

“you’re kidding me right, jin?” you groaned when you saw jin dusted off the cookbook he held in his hands.

he looked at you in annoyance and tisked at your reaction. shaking his head, he walked to the counter and plopped the book down. opening it carefully, he flipped through the recipes while talking to you.

“oh i’m definitely not. this is from generations ago so it’s very important and that means you cannot get it dirty.”

from his rare authoritative tone, you knew this was serious. putting aside your emotions, you rolled up your sleeves and washed them in a nearby basin. you would have to work hard to decipher what the words would mean, something you quickly realized when you read that you needed to ‘make a foile of gode past as thynne as paper’ for one of the pastries. at the line, you and jin looked at each other in confusion before jin started laughing.

“ah, you have your work cut out for you y/n. good you’re the best chef and baker in the kingdom so you will be fine.”

“debatable. very— okay, what the fuck is a crispel?”

at your sudden burst of obscene language, jin doubled over laughing and dried his fake tears before patting you on the back. he was going on vacation for a while with the head advisor to the king: kim namjoon, also the oldest prince. you genuinely wanted to punch them both, who was going to take care of the feast without the most responsible people?

“don’t stress too much, you still have the youngest prince and that knight of yours!”

“please! i need to just pray that the prince won’t accidentally forget to invite the parks and that knight isn’t mine or anything. i just hope he won’t make my life living hell. i’m going to die just by thinking about this.”

at that point, you thought you would say goodbye to your beloved job at the palace. there was no way you could cook all the dishes, so you had to ask for help. something you absolutely hated. if you could do it perfectly, why did you need help? but going with jin’s ‘superior’ advice, you asked for help.

it was getting better! most of the dishes were finished but no one wanted to bake the pastries. probably because it was the hardest one to perfect and the cookbook made absolutely no sense. but of course, you still had prince! taehyung and knight! jungkook that would definitely make your job worse.

knight! jungkook smirked as he thought of you. he wondered how many different ways he could make you roll your eyes in annoyance. it was his favorite pastime. but he should probably focus on the sword that was dangerously close to his neck.

“you seem off, jungkook. unless, i’m just better than you now.” prince! taehyung chuckled as he walked towards the jungkook. he lifted the sword from jungkook’s neck and held it on his shoulder.

taehyung’s hair was full of elaborate curls that had been messed up by the sparring practice and his tendency to run his hand through his hair every few minutes. jungkook’s was far worse, due to the fact he didn’t have as many servants at his disposal to help him clean up. his bangs constantly got in the way of his vision, something many palace servants thought of as another charming point to the man.

seeing the sword move away, jungkook rolled his eyes at the prince’s teasing eyes and got up quickly and got into their separate stances.

the two narrowed their eyes and circled around each other. jungkook stopped and taehyung did in response. with a baited breath, all the other knights watching the sparring match between the best friends tense up.

jungkook moved first.

he ran with all his might towards the prince and clashed their swords. taehyung put up his sword in the nick of time and sparks flew everywhere. the two were locked in strength, as this scene was more than familiar but nonetheless exciting. jungkook took a chance, wanting to trick the prince by lightening up the force he was using. taehyung, falling for the new trick, took this as tiredness and pushed harder. this all happened in a couple of seconds so both the knights nearby and passing servants watched in awe as the two handsome men battled it out.

jungkook smiled and let go completely, sidestepping to the left. taehyung used too much force and tripped over his feet. jungkook swerved around taehyung and before the prince could look back to defend himself, jungkook had pointed his sword to the back of his neck. taehyung kept his hands up at the feeling of he sword so close, letting go of his own and the clattering sound resounded through the sparring area. but it was not the end.

jungkook taking this as a victory, became a little relaxed and did not expect the next attack. in an instant, taehyung had turned around, dodged jungkook’s swing, and was holding a small dagger to jungkook’s neck. with eyes wide, jungkook let go of his sword, falling to the floor for the entire courtyard to hear.

but before taehyung could claim victory, there was a shout heard from the insides of the palace. letting go of his hold on jungkook, taehyung looked towards the running little boy and tucked the dagger away to not scare the kid. jungkook noticed the child and decided to pick up the swords, believing the kids was about spew some royal duties to his friend. the boy’s feet pattered towards the two men while the rest of the attendants in the courtyard started to disperse and talk amongst themselves.

“i apologize for inconvenience, my prince! i do not mean,” he breathes out quickly, almost hyperventilating, “to disturb. the head chef said not to come so if i must be punished, i do not mind but i must be here!” the little boy said, not older than eight or nine, and was on his knees, looking down in shame.

taehyung and jungkook looked at each other when they both heard the boy say head chef, aka you. as their best friend, you’re hatred for asking for help was something both of them knew too well. so when they heard that you had specifically told this boy not to come to them, that meant something was up. they went closer to the shaking boy, scared he would be punished by the best knight in the kingdom and the bravest prince in the royal family.

taehyung and jungkook kneeled next to the little boy to not frighten him. deciding it was best that taehyung comfort him— as a knight might be too scary and a prince might have a better effect— taehyung put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. the boy slowly raised his eyes to meet taehyung’s and blinked a few times, too much in awe that a prince was right in front of him.

“what is the matter? don’t worry,” taehyung stroked the kid’s back, “i will not punish you.” he said in a soft voice.

instead of replying, the boy looked towards jungkook. jungkook, confused at the action, continued to stare at the child and not understand the silent question he was asking.

“um, sire? will you punish me?” the young boy whispered in fear.

taehyung laughed at the question and threw his head back. jungkook looked offended by taehyung’s reaction but quickly assured that he would not. taehyung added that jungkook was too weak to hurt anyone, but this retort was quickly followed by other insults the two threw at each other in a teasing fun.

“um your majesty?” the little boy asked, breaking up the prince and knight from glaring at each other.

“ah yes, go ahead. what’s wrong?” taehyung asked.

“um, well.. the head chef said that i shouldn’t come here but i know that you all are friends!” the kid said animatedly, making the two men smile and reminiscent of their own youth.

“so i thought you would be able to help. uh, mx y/n needs help. they cut themselves while chopping some vegetables and i think everything is stressing them out. while they were cooking, they said that they wish you two were there to calm them down so i just thought…”

the two young men looked at each other and smiled at the thoughtfulness of the little kid before frowning at your actions. if you were stressed, you should come to them! not indirectly hoping that they would just appear. jungkook patted the little boy’s head, thanked him for his message, and they both changed out of their armor and leaving them with more comfortable.

taehyung’s robes were usually much more intricate than jungkook’s due to his royal status and wealth but today he wanted to stay light. he wore a white plain blouse and black pants. the shirt had golden embellishments on the shoulder and arms. jungkook was dressed in a simple brown shirt with a plain, light green pants as the highest level of knights wore. both men then headed to you.

“please mx y/n, get out of there!” the two heard while they descended the staircase to the kitchens. when they heard this, they ran down faster. at the entrance to the kitchens stood the entire staff, who were covering their faces with their handkerchieves because of a small amount of smoke.

smoke.

both taehyung and jungkook widened their eyes and understood what was wrong. you were still in the kitchen. the kitchen that was currently on fire.

taehyung was too shocked to do move as he was not used to this type of situation. usually, he was the one being saved by palace guards for his naivety and curiosity while venturing outside the palace. while taehyung had his mouth agape from the small flames, jungkook was already running into the kitchen. as a trained knight, this was more up his alley. he knew what to do, get inside and drag you out fast. he was working against the raising flames that were not merciful. the kitchen staff tried to grab a hold of jungkook and pull him away from the doors, but he was too fast and strong— again a trained knight.

“y/n! where are you?!” jungkook yelled out, looking frantically around before coughing slightly.

his eyes started to burn at the thickening smoke and he covered his mouth to try and breathe easier. he wasn’t able to keep low to the ground like his mentors had taught him due to trying to find you. the flames were barely licking at his feet and his pants, while jungkook kept looking around for any sign of you. he was beginning to lose hope when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

quickly turning around, his eyes dulled when he only saw that taehyung was inside too and helping him search. realizing that the youngest prince of the kingdom was in a fire, jungkook tried to push taehyung back.

“are you crazy?! this is a fire, hyung!” jungkook tried to scream over the flames that were starting to grow larger. taehyung looked at his friend and after a silent battle, the two continued to search for you, the conversation was over.

“u-ugh, over h-here!” a croaked voice rang out in the billowing blackening smoke, making the two men whip their heads in the direction of the voice.

they tried their best to run towards it but wooden splinters and lines of fire kept preventing them to reach faster. they kept trying and finally found you, blocked off by a ring of fire. you were shaking and facing into a corner, trying to not let the fires touch you or what you were...holding?

was that a book?

you had been baking— or trying to rather, by the directions of the old book but you had fallen asleep, the first precaution every chef knew to avoid. a little boy was talking about his adventures in the market that morning and while listening to his long, confusing words, you had drifted off on the kitchen counter. your left cheek was still caked with flour from the remaining that was on the counter. you had woken up to crackling and an uncomfortable, oppressing heat from all around you. at that moment you had seen the kitchen counter on fire, and so naturally, you ran out of the kitchen. while waiting for guards to come put out the fire, you had a realization.

that damned book was still inside!

a couple of hundred years of history of sweets was in that book and the royal family would surely lock you up for damaging such an important artifact. but you were more worried about the disappointed and angry face your mentor, seokjin, would have when he realize that you couldn’t even keep a simple book safe— your career and friendship would be over.

while the two men were trying to reach out to you past the rising flames, guards on the outside of the kitchen were putting out the fire with pails of water. everyone was helping out because of the three very important people inside, not to mention the entire food for the upcoming feast was getting burned to a crisp!

“come on y/n! you have to reach out, please!” taehyung’s loud voice rang out and you snapped your eyes open and steeled yourself.

you had to do this, you weren’t going to die now. coughing up a storm, you slowly got on your feet and crouched close to the creaking floor. the floor was wooden and would give out any minute, you three needed to leave fast.

while taehyung was encouraging you to step through the flames and head towards him, jungkook was trying to find something to pat down the flames near you. if you ran through fire at its current height, there was a good chance you would not survive, which he wouldn’t let happen.

he found that there was nothing he could do except try and stomp on the flames with his leather boots, it worked (thankfully) and the flame was small enough where you could jump over it without getting too hurt.

you saw both taehyung and jungkook coughing heavily from the smoke and a fire behind the two of them starting to roar. you squinted your eyes and with a determined mind, you steadied yourself with the book under your right arm. you ran fast and leaped over the stomped fire, right into jungkook and taehyung’s arms.

unfortunately, the flames decided to rise at that exact moment. your ankles that was not covered by your leather shoes and part of your right arm that protected the book were not very lucky.

the fire ripped through your skin and it felt unnervingly cold, like dipping your limbs into a cold river. it covered little skin but where it did, it was excruciating pain. your skin felt as if it was ripped apart from your body and then singed back on. you could feel blisters bubbling on your arm and cried out.

your right arm was still glued to the book, but your mind was numb and weak from the pain. you wanted to repel away from the place, the heat was making you feel dizzy. you started seeing black spots but someone shook your shoulders and you heard gurgles of words far, far away.

you were screaming. but you couldn’t even hear yourself. someone lifted you up into their arms and the red fire started to be replaced with a darker brown. you were shuffled outside the kitchen but you could be wrong. your shut your eyes but lips still whimpering. you felt yourself being lifted and put into someone else’s cold arms. you liked the cooling sensation and curled further into them and slowly drifted into darkness.

you woke up to a dark room. it felt like your eyes were still stitched shut and so you looked around for a light. a large window was open and you saw the moon still very much up in the sky. you tried moving your arms, but felt bandages on your right arm. above your elbow, white bandages were tightly wrapped.

your fingers, especially of your right hand, were slow to respond. it took you a few minutes, but it felt like hours, to spread your entire palm on the bed you were on. taking your time, you slowly perched yourself up on your elbows.

a sharp pain ran up your arm and you stopped, shrieking in pain. it was like an electrical shock through your spine and you had to stop moving. you heard footsteps and saw that a door was flung open. you were thankful they hadn’t brought any torch because fire was still a scary aspect.

you saw the silhouettes of two people enter quickly. they were followed by many guards but they all bowed and left with a wave of a hand. the door slammed shut, making you wince on instinct and the two men came closer, the moonlight shining on their familiar faces.

taehyung and jungkook.

you tried to speak but out came a raspy noise from the back of your throat. taehyung brought over a cup of water while jungkook tried to lift you up into a sitting position without moving your foot and making you lean on your left side. you desperately drank the water, gulping it down and almost choking if taehyung hadn’t tilted the cup back. after calming your breath, you looked up.

“w-what happened..?” you croaked out.

the two men slowly backed away from you and sat at the edge of the bed you were lying in. you noticed that the bed you were in was much larger than your usual one. looking around more, you realized you were in prince taehyung’s royal chambers. your feet was wrapped with gauze and propped up on pillows. there was also a white blanket that was falling off the bed and onto the ground.

taehyung looked to jungkook’s face who was blank without emotion. jungkook looked down at lap and was fumbling with his hands, something he never did. he was usually so calm and poised due to his training but this was not something he was trained for. he let out a frustrated grunt and got up, looking away from the bed and to the window.

taehyung ignored his best friend’s response and looked up at you softly. he patted your head tenderly and tried to send a reassuring smile towards you.

“..you passed out, from the pain i gather, after jungkook lifted you into my arms. he was running to find the royal physician while i tried to warm you up.” taehyung started with a distant look on his face.

“w-warm me up? w-why would you need to do that if the f-fire-“

“because you were shivering!” jungkook burst, looking at you in a pleading fashion. his arms were stretched out in fear and he walked towards you. you could see the tears forming in his eyes when he continued.

“the royal physician said that you developed a fever from the burn and we were trying to keep you warm. taehyung thought it would be warmer in his room so we left you here— that doesn’t matter!”

jungkook sat down at the left side of your leg and looked sadly at your feet. taehyung was on your right and the two looked at you intently. you reached for their hands and intertwined your hands while glancing between your friends. it was hard to move your right arm but you suppressed the pain to hold taehyung’s hand, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“why did you go back to save that stupid book?” taehyung asked, tears already falling down his cheeks.

“i-i thought it was important. seokjin said that it was a family heirloom and..” you trailed off, not able to meet their faces.

jungkook started again, “and what? you weren’t thinking, that’s what! y/n. your life is more valuable than that stupid book! you should know that.”

“also, we heard from a little boy that you were feeling stressed. you’re supposed to come to us when you feel that way, not just want us to magically appear. how many times do we have to tell you that?” taehyung quietly insisted.

“don’t get me started on that, i’m still angry at the fact that you risked your life for a stupid book and ran into a fire—” jungkook tried again to reason.

“oh will the two of you shut up?” you said annoyed and furious. you were not going to just listen to your best friends berate you in this way.

“yes it was stupid but guess what? i survived—”

“fucking barely.”

you glared at the outburst of both of them and continued.

“i have been trying to prove to you and this entire kingdom that i am willing to be the royal baker and i have painstakingly worked my ass off for this job! i love doing this and i know i’m good at it. yeah, my feet are hurt and my arm is weak but i’m alright, okay? i should’ve asked for help but it seems that’s all i do. i wanted to be independent..”

taehyung and jungkook looked at each other before smiling at your face. you lifted one eyebrow in question but they stayed silent. taehyung closed his other hand to encase yours.

“you are independent, y/n. you were able to make all the food, much of which we were able to save, for the feast. if that’s not an incredible feat, i don’t know what is.”

“not to mention, the sweets you’ve been baking for the past week? i may have taken a few of those— uh what do you call it? crispels? anyways those honey baked goods, ooh those are so tasty!”

“oh.. thank you. i suppose i have done— wait, you ate some crispels? those take me four hours for each batch!” you demanded jungkook, whose doe eyes were wide in fear of your reaction.

taehyung giggled at your response before the rest of you joined in. you smiled at your friends, not only had they saved you from a fire, they had also made you feel better for doing something so incredibly stupid. they really were the best, but you were worried. what about the food that was burned up? who would make it now that you were out of commission.

“don’t worry too much about the feast. i was talking with my father and who would’ve guessed? i forgot to invite the parks.. so since their journey will take them two weeks, we still have some time!” taehyung chuckled awkwardly while you rolled you eyes at his foolishness.

you released your hands from your friends and looked at your fingers. they were dry and cracked, clearly no one had thought to thoroughly clean them when the physician was applying salve to the burns. you tried clenching them but your right arm felt like it was engulfed in flames and the searing hot pain made you yell out and grab it in shock. taehyung got up to make sure the bandages were not too tight while jungkook rubbed your back helplessly. while feeling bad and still a little guilty that you couldn’t cook, you started to think.

when you looked at them, you got an idea. your smirk only made the two men confused, as they could only imagine what favor you were going to ask of them.

“no, no, no! you’re doing it all wrong taehyung. you need to marinate the strawberries in the honey, then stir the egg white into another bowl. see, look at— no jungkook! that’s flour, not sugar! wrong ingredient!” you yelled in your house, while sitting and overlooking the two men in your own kitchen.

since the royal kitchen was still being repaired, and you needed to bake the rest of the sweets (apparently all of your helpers had gotten hurt too), you had decided to move the things into your own small home. the two men had visited multiple times, but never to cook anything— that was your speciality, not theirs.

and you could clearly see it. the two made a mess while not being able to help and it irritated you so much. your royal check ups with the physician proved that you would not be walking for a while and so you had to rest.

but, things in the kitchen were getting better. after the fifth attempt, you were happy to say that taehyung put all the ingredients in the right order and jungkook used all the right ingredients. but seriously, how was taehyung not be able to follow directions? he’s a prince! and how did jungkook mix up flour and sugar? they are completely different smells and textures!

now this, this was the hard part and since you right arm was especially weak and your left arm currently holding up your entire torso, you were unable to whip the mixture. they started to and oh boy, they were tired in seconds. you had created this recipe when experimenting but never able to test it out. with two trained soldiers, you thought they would be able to do this for longer.

after a few hours, they were able to make a soft, creamy consistency. perfect for your honey and strawberry crispels. the two men dabbed the cream on top and the three of you cheered. you all ate the sweet, and almost instantly the dozen batch was gone.

for your ingenious creation, you needed a name. you wanted to call it ‘whipped cream crispels’ but both of your friends decided it against it, wanting a cooler name to impress their friendly rival, prince jimin of the park royal family. taehyung decided to call the cream ‘snow’ because jungkook’s inability to see the difference of white ingredients. while jungkook added ‘honey-dipped strawberries’ at the beginning to remind taehyung the order of doing things.

so, your ‘honey-dipped strawberries in snow’ was served at the grand feast a few weeks later when the parks finally arrived.

saying that prince jimin was impressed by your baking skills was an understatements. his compliments were so inflated that even taehyung and jungkook were getting jealous by the amount of your attention he was taking up. they almost dueled and probably would have if you hadn’t brought out more sweets for them to try.

“these are amazing, y/f/n! truly, your baking skills are no match for anyone. please sit down.” jimin said in his dark blue royal coat. he had a big smile on his face after eating your sweets and was gesturing to the seat next to him.

“o-oh, thank you. that’s very kind of you to say, your majesty.” you stuttered at the compliments and your cheeks felt very warm. you sat down and held your hands in your lap. your feet still got tired easily so it was a nice break.

“you can call me jimin, y/n. you know, your skills could be used wisely in my kingdom. i would even offer you a room near myself to make sure that i try out all of your sweets. what do you say?” he said smirking and ignoring the two shocked faces in front of him on the other side of the dining table.

“um, your maj- uh jimin, i don’t think that’s necessary. i’m—”

“she’s quite happy here, jimin. i don’t think i like what you’re implying, hyung.” taehyung stated right across jimin. he crossed his arms in annoyance at the older prince’s words.

“i don’t ever know what you mean!” jimin said innocently looking forward.

“oh please! even i know you’re just saying all of that because you think y/n is attractive. back off, they’re not interested.” jungkook said. he stepped forward from the door, where he was guarding, and right behind taehyung. his tone was not polite manner which you quickly glared at him for. he looked at you in confusion before groaning.

“hm, i don’t think so. what about you, y/n?”

“what about me? um, sir?”

jimin only smirked coyly at your formalities and liked how sweet you were. maybe that’s how your food was so delicious, or maybe it was the excess amount of sugar.

“well, do you want to go to my kingdom? i could show you around.. or more importantly for your interests, i could show you an old cookbook of ours and my people’s way of making sweets.”

you paused, that would be a good idea. wouldn’t it? you get to visit a whole new kingdom, learn new recipes, and spend time with a prince. but you suddenly remembered your mentor’s teachings when you first entered the palace.

“rule number one: don’t flirt with any royal.” seokjin said with a stern face.

“pfffft like i would want to!” you said mockingly

“i’m serious. they can be a little.. mischievous.”

“fine, whatever.”

you came back to the present and smiled wide at jimin. both taehyung and jungkook were losing their minds while jimin was just enjoying the silence. if you went with jimin it would weaken your loyalty to their kingdom and they would be very jealous so it wasn’t a good idea— not like that was even remotely running through your mind. you just wanted to stay with your friends.

“i am very honored to be offered such an option. thank you, prince jimin, but i’m going to have to decline. my place is here with prince taehyung and sir jungkook, it would be rude of me to leave the palace without a head chef.”

jimin was surprised by your words but smiled softly that you were thinking of your friends. he patted your good shoulder and got up from his chair. scared he would be offended, you stood up as well. jimin gestured for you to sit down and so you did. he bowed to taehyung and jungkook in respect for his younger friends and you as well. you looked down too and he quickly left to the guest chambers. of course, he still wanted the last word.

“you can always change your mind and discuss it further in my room, y/n. i’ll see you soon!”

once the door closed, taehyung and jungkook started animatedly, and you hoped they were joking, talking about how they would completely defeat jimin at dueling during next morning’s practice. you laughed at their reactions but were happy to have such good and protective friends. you ate one of your sweets and smiled.

#knight! jungkook x baker! reader x prince! taehyung #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts one shot #bts royal au #bts medieval au #jungkook x reader x taehyung #baker! reader #knight! jungkook #prince! taehyung #medieval au #royal au #my writing #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #park jimin

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 4 years

Text

Life of the Party

This is the fluffiest thing I’ve ever written and it still involves a swingers’ party. But seriously, other than the setting, this whole thing is just humor and boy-meets-girl cuteness.

Pairing: Adam Cole x reader

Word count: 2,117

Content advisory: nothing beyond the setting

“Could you please stop acting so uptight?” Jeanie asks, poking you hard in the ribs. “You said you wanted to try it.”

Yes, you have to admit, you did say that you wanted to try it. Jeanie had been sharing her stories with you and Ellen about going to the swinger parties hosted by a physiotherapist who regularly attended Jeanie’s yoga classes and her husband, and a month ago, she’d finally persuaded Ellen to come along to one. Ellen had been so impressed that she’d talked about it for a week nonstop and you finally had to concede that, yes, you were curious and that you did want to come along the next time there was an opportunity. And you had wanted to come along. You wanted to get into the spirit of liberation and exploration that these nights offered. But here you were, walking into a party with a very select guest list and all you could think of to do was make wisecracks.

Jeanie and Ellen were both insistent that you keep your mind open, to which you responded that you couldn’t keep your mind and legs open at the same time, which got a chortle but also a withering look from both of them. Your inclination was to separate from the crowd with them and to pass the night making catty comments. They, however, preferred to circulate and see who might be interested and what they might be interested in. Normally, sarcasm and irony were the weapons you used to prevent yourself from feeling vulnerable. But normally, your friends would be right beside you. Tonight, they weren’t so interested in smart remarks and were more interested in seeing what kind of adventure they could find. It was almost like disinterestedly scanning through Tinder and getting frustrated by playing eye contact games with guys in bars wasn’t enough for them anymore.

It took exactly 38 minutes for you to completely lose your sense of ironic invincibility. You know this because you’ve been able to time it on your phone. In those first minutes, you were joking with Jeanie and Ellen, then they chose to migrate into the crowd and started chatting with a few people. Then you’d just chilled on your own and thought it was funny how everyone else seemed to be trying to hook up with someone. Then it had occurred to you that everyone else was hooking up with someone, almost as if being open about what they wanted was something that wasn’t a source of humiliation for them the way it was for you. Then you’d realized that you were standing by yourself, protected by an impenetrable wall of sarcasm, completely isolated while everyone around you was getting laid.

You’d sure showed them. You alone had discovered the secret to not having sex at a party the point of which was to make sure that everyone had all the sex they wanted. Lucky for you that the guests were so distracted that it was easy to just steal alcohol from the refrigerator. It was like you were doing the hosts a favor, making sure that the supplies they laid in didn’t go to waste. There were little hors d’oeuvres on trays catered from a company whose treats didn’t come cheap, so you grabbed plate full of those too and retired to the back patio to feel awkward and superior and incredibly envious that there were people who could just approach other human beings and tell them they wanted to have sex with them and get it.

This goes fine for about fifteen minutes, or two full glasses of wine and about half the plate of exquisite mini pastries and vegetable art, at which point another solitary figure slinks out onto the patio with you. There is immediately a dirigible of silence between you, swollen with mutual desire, the desire to be left alone and to have no one notice you. On the other hand, it is also fueled by the awareness that the two of you are the party’s resident weirdos and that social convention demands that you try to forge some kind of connection so that you can eventually make eye contact and fall in love or something. It’s you who gives in first.

“Miniature sausage?”

The tumescent blimp of tension between you deflates as the man looks up with a combination of defensiveness and hostility.

You press the still half-eaten plate towards him. “They ordered these individual mini sausages with gourmet ingredients and everything. There’s like four different kinds and they all look like they’re made by hand. I mean, I can’t imagine they found a machine that could make them this size.”

He’s still giving you a bit of a suspicious look, scanning you for any sign that you’re mocking him but gradually he drags his chair a little closer to observe the food you’re proffering. He snatches up a tiny deconstructed spanakopita-type-thing that crumbles in an avalanche of phyllo crumbs over his dark shirt when he tries to take a bite.

“Those are a bit tricky,” you commiserate.

“So, you’re the… official taster?” he kids, obviously trying to project a bit of cool as he brushes himself more or less clean.

“Sure, we can go with that.” You once again extend the plate to let him try something else and, after allowing his hand to hover a moment, he takes one of the perfect little sausages.

“Ok,” he says, nodding, “you have a point. These are pretty awesome.”

You resist the urge to say ‘I told you so’ by pushing one of the salmon-lemongrass wraps into your mouth.

“You prefer fish?” he grins.

“I just like to eat.”

He laughs a little and, as ridiculously clichéd as it is, you bat your eyelashes because now that you’re able to get a better look at him, you feel your thighs inadvertently press together. He is really good looking. His light brown hair is drawn back into a loose chignon, and he has that perfected, give-a-shit scruff you’ve seen in musicians and you hope to god that he’s not one of those because they’re always such cocky assholes. But what really draws you in are the bright, sparkling, mischievous blue eyes. You can’t stop staring at them and into them, imaging what they’d look like sparked with lust and… you realize it’s been an inappropriately long time since either of you has said anything.

He takes your last oyster, the bastard, and tips the shell against his mouth, allowing the flesh to slide through his lips and over his tongue that flashes out for just a second to capture the drops of briny liquor. The change in his expression shows that he’s definitely caught you looking in a way that’s entirely appropriate to the party inside.

“So why aren’t you enjoying the main course?” you ask, trying not to be quite so obvious and hitching your head in the direction of the house.

“I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing here,” he sighs. “I was with my girlfriend, well, my ex-girlfriend now, for seven years. Two weeks ago I came home from a tour a day early and I run into her with her movers clearing all her stuff out of our condo. Braden’s my nutritionist and told me he and Sheryl were having this party and he thought it might be a good chance for me to shake off some of the… well, you know. Seven years with the same girl and now I’m single.”

Everything after “home from a tour” is a sort of verbal soup to you. A tour. He is a musician. Oh no.

“What about you?” he asks. “How did you end up on Fuck Island?”

“My friend Jeanie is Sheryl’s yoga instructor,” you squeak, wishing very much to leave it at that. He gives you a pointed stare and a smile that seems to light up the entire yard and so, feeling more than a little self-conscious, you continue, “My husband left me about a year ago and I haven’t been… well, I haven’t dated anyone since then and Jeanie figured that this might be a good opportunity to get back in the saddle.”

He gives you another big smile and you think, or at least hope, that there’s a bit of a flirtatious glint in his eye. “I didn’t know they had a saddle too.”

It’s a silly joke but it does make you laugh and that makes you feel a little less awkward that you basically told a complete stranger that you got your ass dumped and hadn’t had sex since. Still, you’re eager to move on.

“So you’re a musician?”

“What? Oh, because I was on tour. No, I’m a professional wrestler.”

And that, you think, might be worse than a musician, because it’s sort of like being a jock version of a rock star, right? All of the testosterone and none of the creativity?

“What do you do?” he asks, pleasantly enough.

“I’m the curator at the A.E. Backus Gallery.”

His dazzling eyes widen. “Wow…” he stammers, “Art.”

You giggle and pour yourself another glass of wine. “Wow… Wrestling.”

He leans in and takes the bottle from you, gulping directly from it as he leans back into his chair. “I’m not really arty.”

“Not at all?”

“Does videogame art count?”

“It can,” you answer, pushing a note of gentle humor into your voice.

“Well then I guess I’m a bit of a collector. Maybe you can sell me something.” He hitches his eyebrows a little and it is endearing.

“I didn’t know wrestling paid so well.”

“It does when you’re as good at it as I am,” he grins, taking another long swig from the wine bottle.

His arm is slowly moving towards you and you’ve leaned forward so that you’re at once helping to close the distance between you and giving him a nice view of the tops of your breasts, something which does not appear to go unappreciated. Feeling a little cheeky, you take a big drink from your wine glass and allow a drop to fall from your lips. As you were hoping, he reaches over and brushes it away with his thumb. His eyes are definitely more intense, more curious and threaded with a hint of lust and they are every bit as thrilling as you thought they would be.

“I’m Adam,” he whispers.

“Eva,” you tell him, and you both laugh a little at that.

“So I guess we really should be naked.”

“Or if we felt self-conscious, I think that one of the hors d’oeuvres has some minced grape or fig leaves.”

“Are you suggesting that I would be able to cover myself with just a tiny sausage?”

You laugh again and blush because his hand is still resting against your face, stroking your cheek ever so softly.

His eyes flicker towards the house and he struggles for a minute to form words, his jaw twitching a little with the effort. And as much as you feel yourself growing damp at the idea of being with him, the idea of doing so in a sauna of sex mist is not working for you.

“I cannot tell you,” he begins finally, waving a hand towards the indoors, “how uncomfortable I am with this whole thing.”

“Oh,” you exhale in sweet relief, “you don’t need to tell me because I just… This is not my scene. No judgment but this just isn’t going to work as a way of getting back out there.”

He gives you a wink. “Eva, would you like to go somewhere and not have sex with me for a bit?”

You look down at what you’re wearing, dismayed. “I’m basically wearing lingerie.”

“You look beautiful.”

“I feel naked.”

“It’s ok,” he assures you. “I know an amazing place to get drive through. You know. If that’s something art gallery girls can get into.”

“I can get into that.”

He stands and offers you his arm, the muscle flexing a little as he helps you up and sending an electric shiver through your core. Toned and firm but not the bulked-up, steroid-ridden balloon you would have imagined all pro wrestlers to possess. You bite your lip and he definitely notices, edging just a little closer to you,

“I really hope no one’s fucking in my car,” he says wistfully.

“I’m so glad I came here in a cab.”

The two of you share a conspiratorial glance as you pick your way down the driveway and onto the street towards his hopefully unoccupied car. No sex for a bit, you tell yourself, but maybe not too long of a bit.

#nxt imagine #wwe imagine #nxt fanfiction #adam cole fanfiction #adam cole imagine #adam cole x reader #wayward wrestle writing #wrestling imagine #wrestling fanfic

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toomanyandomestocount · 3 years

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Not in the kitchen

2022

Daya was in the kitchen furiously going through recipes searching for the perfect one because it was her and her girlfriends one month anniversary and she decided to make a home cooked meal for their date . The only problem was that this was her first time cooking and she had no idea what to do.

Finally she found the perfect recipe. A delicious sounding white sauce pasta with some garlic bread and some chili garlic bites all made from scratch. So she got to work, putting the butter in the pan and chopping the garlic and the vegetables while boiling the pasta.

Just as she got done with the pasta her doorbell rang indicating Nisha was already at the door so she shut off the flame and went to greet her girl. The moment she entered flowers and coca cola she brought with herself were pushed into Daya’s hands. Pressing a kiss on her cheek she scrunched up her nose sniffing the air. After a moment she turned to Daya and asked with a shocked face that melted into an amused smile ‘Did you cook?’

Sheepishly Daya shrugged her shoulders looking down and said ‘ I wanted to do something special for our anniversary.’

Grinning from ear to ear Nisha went up to her and lifted her head while wrapping her hands around Daya’s waist and kissed her on the cheek and whispered ‘You are adorable.’ She turned around moving towards the kitchen ,exited to see what her girlfriend had come up with, pulling at Daya’s sleeves ‘Come on let me help . What are you making? ‘

Daya immediately pulled her back ‘No! You go sit in the living room and wait I want to make it on my own it’s my gift for you.’

‘Ok but at least let me be in the kitchen with you’ Nisha negotiated.

‘Fine! But don’t distract me.’ came a huffed reply. As they made their way to the kitchen Daya put the flowers in a vase and the cola in the fridge.

She turns on the stove and starts working on the garlic bread. Daya puts the bread on the pan flipping it every few seconds, so completely focused in trying to not burn the bread that she misses Nisha quickly whipping out her phone and snapping a picture of her and sneakily posts it on twitter with a caption ‘ Dayas first ever cooking experience ;)’

Once the food was all done they sat down in the living room and put on a movie that they completely ignored as they sat there cuddling and eating. Daya took the fork and took a bite and shuddered. It was disgusting so she looked up at Nisha and asked ‘Do you like it?’ with a voice full of hope , eyes wide and innocent. Nisha melted inside and she just could not handle seeing a disappointed look in Daya when she tried so hard . So instead mustered up the best smile and said ‘It is amazing babe’. And they spent the rest of the night sitting there eating cuddling and laughing.

2032

Nisha and Daya have been together ten years and married five. They are at the table discussing what to make for the get together they are hosting that all their friends are attending and they had been bickering for over an hour and still had not come to a conclusion when finally Nisha relented and agreed on a simple pasta salad , cheese sticks and lasagna with ice cream for dessert.

They went over to the grocery store where they bickered a little more over the ingredients. Which went something like ‘Nisha cheddar is the superior cheese. ‘ ‘Daya we cannot make cheese sticks from cheddar so keep the mozzarella that I know you stole back in the cart.’

(huffing)

‘ huh Fine I will. I don’t know why I married you in the first place ’ Daya said with a pout. To which Nisha replied with rolling her eyes at the tantrum her childish wife was throwing in the middle of the store ‘ because you love me you absolute nincompoop’

And the instant retort was ‘ Not right now I don’t’

‘ Shut up. You love me.’ A highly amused Nisha told her wife pretending to be annoyed while secretly loving how her wife can look so cute while being so utterly ridicules.

Daya knew that her current tactic was not working so she switched it up ‘Unfortunately I do. So…. Can we take the cheddar . Pretty please.’ She pleaded fluttering her eyelashes . Knowing her wife can’t say no to her, she internally cheered as Nisha sighed completely aware she was going to comply. ‘Fine I’ll make some for you separately But keep the mozzarella for our friends. ‘ she said as Daya ran to check out grinning widely.

Nisha stood there for a few seconds, just smiling looking at her wife who was chatting with the cashier as they checked their stuff out.

They took the stuff back home, put it away and got ready for bed.

Nisha sighed while they were cuddling and said ‘I am dreading the morning. There is so much to do and I don’t have a lot of time we need to clean the house put the glassware away , decorate, and I have to cook so many things ‘

Daya looked up and said ‘Don’t worry honey, I promise I will help in the kitchen.’. Nisha just looked over to her in horror and said firmly ‘Absolutely not. You can do whatever you want but you are not stepping a foot inside my kitchen, I can already picture what a disaster that would be.’

Daya looked at her and said a little confused ‘But I made you that pasta on our anniversary and you said it was amazing ‘

Nisha smiled sheepishly a little apologetic, feeling slightly guilty and said ‘ I didn’t want to make you sad , you looked so hopeful and cute I could not break your heart like that, and you put so much effort into it so I said I liked it’

Daya stared at her mouth agape stuttering a little trying to look angry and shocked , but suddenly started laughing and with a lot of effort calmed down and admitted with a smile that she didn’t like it either.

They looked at each other and burst into another round of laughter and discussed all that was wrong with that dish.

#lgbtqplus #lgbtq+#lesbian #oneshots #fluff #wlw #gxg #my fic #gay #cute #happily married #first date

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segenassefa · 4 years

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9: Why Gatekeeping is Ok (#FufuChallenge Discourse)

African restaurants in the U.S., while not as popular as their foreign counterparts, are not far and few between in states such as a D.C., New York, and Georgia having large African communities. In recent weeks, videos of people trying variations of fufu and stew have popped up seemingly out of nowhere, unknowingly creating a “trend” called the #FufuChallenge. While some of the reactions were positive, many of these videos were quite the opposite, in which individuals with little to no home training had the absolute gall to record themselves treating the food as if it were 50 Shades of Grey – including but not limited to spitting, slapping, tossing, and other things that are considered incredibly disrespectful.

Now, fufu is native to West Africa and made from boiled and pounded cassava. Different countries have their versions of the same food, give or take a few ingredients - banku, eba, ga’at, ugali, mofongo, and cornmeal coucou (fungi, for my VI people). As disclaimer – I am an adventurous eater, and the first time I tried fufu, I was a fan. I don’t think it’s a food that’s hard to enjoy flavour-wise, but I can see how the texture may not be agreeable for everyone. Additionally, being from a culture that eats with their hands, there’s a lot of etiquette that’s instilled in at a young age– the most important being that food is not a toy. However, the recent videos have sparked a debate about Black acceptance between different members of the diaspora.

It is interesting how, during a time of inclusivity and unification within the Black community, it is taking no more than pounded root vegetable for most of you to show your ass. I don’t feel like now is the time to remind Black Americans that some of “common” foods would be considered abhorrent to others – chitlins and pickled pig feet, we’re looking at you. Everyone is losing their mind over pounded cassava, but the idea of eating soggy cornmeal – also known as grits – is a normal phenomenon. We can also bring snack foods into this - hot pickles in a bag, Vienna sausages - but the point of this conversation is not to sit here and bash culinary history, but to make the argument clear that every culture has foods that others would find less than palatable.

In the same breath that we want to come together, fight systemic oppression, and be on some fake Marcus Garvey shit, people are referring to African food as disgusting, garbage, and even “dog food”. But you want to go back to Africa, right? Find your roots?

Have you all lost your damn minds?

Black people exist everywhere, and that inherently means that the techniques and methods of cooking we use are prevalent in a lot of other cultures. If you don’t believe me, take the time to Google Korean fried chicken and the fact that the idea of frying chicken in batter was introduced by Black soldiers stationed abroad in the 1940s and 1950s, or how gumbo and jambalaya are variants of traditional African foods, created using recipes that date back to slavery. So, there’s a chance that there are other foods across various cultures – including Black American meals - that resemble traditional African cuisine. Why don’t you drag those on social media as well?

More likely than not, before the Trans-Atlantic slave trade, this is probably the food that peoples’ ancestors were eating, and by reasonable conclusion, it’d be the food that OUR ancestors were eating. Additionally, there are so many other cultures with foods that can be turned into trend, so why was the Internet’s thought process to bully African people for no reason other than for laughs on social media? No, just traditional African food? Ok, noted.

Like ENNY said, please free my people from clout. PLEASE. I’m begging at this point.

And non-Black people have not escaped scrutiny either – so if you found yourself at a protest this year or have a cheeky little “BLM” in your bio, but you still found the time to degrade African culture on your timeline, I’m going to need you to go ahead and click backspace on your bio for me really quick, because the math is not math-ing. When it comes to other ethnic groups asking for parts of their culture to be respected and kept sacred, everyone wants to be quiet and listen, but when Black – specifically African people - ask for the same respect, people struggle to do so and are left with two options, or what they think are their only options – to, A, dismantle parts of Black culture to be co-opted and renamed to be acceptable to the white gaze or, B, label these things as disgusting and left at the mercy of Twitter think piece writers and Clubhouse podcasters who have nothing better to do than talk about things that they absolutely have no knowledge on.

Lastly, a LOT of foods from other cultures that are popular in the United States are not even authentic to that culture. To stand in front of a Taco Bell, or Panda Express, or Olive Garden and tell anyone that is your idea of eating “ethnic” food is not only a lie, but the curse of nationalism and Western closed-mindedness.

If you think our friends in Mexico are sitting down at their tables each night with a Crunch Wrap Supreme and Nacho Fries, you are highly mistaken, beloved.

But, with no empathy, authentic African culture has been co-opted as a sort of internet trend in which it’s acceptable to bash damn near an entire continent for food that takes immense labour and cultural knowledge to create successfully. And then, the people who posted their negative reviews actually had to sit, order the food, set it up, film themselves eating it, decide they didn’t like it, go back and edit the video – with their disrespect front and centre – and thought they could post it on the internet free of scrutiny. Like, we (as Americans) aren’t even eating traditional foods from other cultures to BEGIN with, so why was now the time to start, and why did you all start with African food?

Answer, and quickly.

There has always been tension within the Black community between Black Americans and the African diaspora, over feelings of perceived superiority and inferiority on both sides, and in all honesty, this is an argument I don’t subscribe to - at the end of the day, systemic racism does not care what flag you have in your bio, or how long you’ve lived in America – you’re Black, plain and simple.

But West Africans were not the first people who hopped on the internet and begged people to try their food, so the unwarranted opinions are more proof that maybe sometimes, it’s ok to gatekeep. And no one is begging for these reactions either or saying that you have to like it – if you’re not a fan, just nize it and maybe just…delete the video? Outside of the topic of respect also, the Internet is forever. So those of who you unabashedly are posting disrespect on the internet, think where this video will be circulating in a year or so.

Lastly, if you think Africans are blowing the response to the “fufu challenge” out of proportion, keep that same energy next time you see white women in box braids, rocking evil eye pendants, doing intricate henna on your timeline, or trying to lecture you about aligning your chakras, since it has now been established that disrespecting peoples’ culture is no more than acceptable social media discourse.

Be blessed!

#cms #blog post 9 #fufuchallenge #tik tok #twitter #instagram #africa

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