comment: i personally think in a relationship that comfort is very important so sorry if you think this is gross but i think it’s hilarious LOL. also this is a new kind of /chill/ babble genre :-) 

Mark: “Was that you,” he’d ask, putting his phone down. “Uhhhhh………….maybe,” you reply, a little embarrassed, but mostly trying your best to hold in your laughter (bc wtf is Mark’s face right now he looks like he’s going to punch you). “NEXT TIME DON’T DO IT IN MY FACE,” he says, pushing you off the couch, laughing, “YOU NASTY!!!!” 

Jr: “EWWWWWWWWWWW,” he yells at you, and then sticks his feet into your face to push you farther away from him. “EWWWWW,” you say this time, trying to get his foot out of your face. “GET THAT AWAY FROM ME!!!” you scream, and he laughs, trying to get away from you and youR DEADLY FART. 

JB: “GIRLS AREN’T SUPPOSED TO FART,” he says, plugging his nose while you’re on the floor, rolling around laughing hysterically. “YOU ARE SO GROSS,” he screams, and you pull him closer to the ground with you, so he can be as close as possible. “SNIFFFF ITTTTTT,” you tease, even though it doesn’t even smell. He laughs his dinosaur laugh and tries to escape, but he’s no match for you. 

Jackson: “Did you just fart,” he says, from across the room, sniffing the air. “YEAH so what,” you say, not even bothering to look up from the phone game you were playing. “Nothing,” he says and then he hesitates for just a second — “I just didn’t know if it was yours or mine.” And you both bURST INTO LAUGHTER BC OMG  

BamBam: Tears are rolling down his eyes as you stand at the doorway, backing away slowly. “No — don’t — go,” he chokes out, through his LAUGHTER. “I just farted,” you say, simply, “EVERYONE FARTS. GROW UP BAMBAM,” you joke, walking away, and you can hear him roaring with laughter in the room, and you literally HAVE to come back to see this blue-haired kid on the floor, red on the face laughing about… farts.  

Youngjae: “I’m going to fart,” you say. Youngjae looks up from whatever he was doing and observes you two: legs entangled on the couch but there was nO WAY that he was going to move (it was too comfortable like damn).”Okay, do it,” he threatens nonchalantly. “Okay, I will,” you say, accepting his challenge, so you DO IT and at first, he doesn’t even realize what’s happened, and then…..the smell……. and he falls off the couch, forgetting about your /comfort/ and just…. stays there. 

Yugyeom: You were sorta hoping he doesn’t notice, but obviously he does because he just GETS UP off the kitchen table (yes he was sitting on it bc he’s badass) and then walks silently to the other room. “SORRY!” you call, trying not to laugh. “IT’S OKAY!” he says, locking the bathroom door. “YOU REMINDED ME THAT I HAD TO GO, TOO,” he says, and then you both burst into laughter OMG 

#82: driving together.

Mark: It’s always a party when you and Mark are driving around at night, especially when you’ve got a long way to go. “Okay, who do you want to listen to today?” you ask him, shuffling a bunch of CDs in your hand. He glances over and shrugs. “I don’t know, Chris Brown, maybe?” he switches on his signal lights as he changes lanes. “Jeez,” he says, making the turn, “Some people really don’t know how to drive…” You both burst out laughing, knowing that even Mark was a shitty driver. “Okay,” you say, putting in the CD. You both put your hands to the switchboard, knowing exactly which song you wanted to turn to: Forever.  Laughing, you both start belting out the song on the top of your lungs — off tune with the horrendous attempt at dance moves to match. Not like anyone could see you guys in the dark, anyway, though. ;-) 

Jr: Ever since he got his license, he always insisted on picking you up, even though he didn’t need to. “You didn’t have to pick me up,” you say, climbing into the car and trying to get his attention to you for a second. “Shh,” he says, putting a hand up to you, “Driving.” You both laugh since the car isn’t even on yet. “Okay, just kidding,” he says, turning toward you,  ”But I like picking you up! And I like driving. A lot.” You chuckle, reaching over to push some of his hair out of his eyes. “I know,” you say, “Seriously, I know.” And he laughs at you, knowing that driving was all he could talk about these days. He starts the car. “Thanks for putting up with me,” he says, and you smile at him, taking his spare hand as he starts the car. 

JB: He grips the steering wheel tightly as you sigh, looking out of the passenger seat. JB was always so nervous driving that he wouldn’t even let you play music. “J,” you say, turning toward him, “Let’s just turn on like… quiet music, okay?” you ask, hoping he’d give in this time. “Nope, I have to concentrate,” he says, not taking his eyes off the road. He pushes the gas pedal slowly and you sigh, looking out the window again. “Hey,” he says, quietly, “Don’t be like that.” He still can’t take his eyes off the road for even a minute. You look over, glaring at him jokingly AND THEN HE FINALLY LOOKS AT YOU FOR ONE SECOND! He smiles with his eyes and you can’t help but your smile yourself — and he laughs at how you can’t stop yourself and then he reaches over to switch the radio on, wanting to make you smile, now, more than anything. 

Jackson: You always end up yelling at each other because this kid couldn’t take directions from anyone else except for himself (😒). “You missed the turn!” you yell, pointing to the opposite direction. “NO, I TAKE THIS WAY!!!” he yells back, swerving the car in the opposite direction than what you told him. “UGGHHHHHHHHHH! YOU ARE SO FRUSTRATING!” you say, turning off the GPS on your phone. He laughs at you, “Me?! FRUSTRATING? AT LEAST I’M not a backseat driver!” You spend the next few minutes yelling at each other some more before Jackson stops you. “Wait,” he says, holding up a hand. “Is this —” you say. “I think it is!” he interrupts you and turns the radio full blast to both of your favourite songs and then the next few minutes is filled with ridiculous singing and making ridiculous faces at each other, knowing that how annoyed you were at each other, you’d still always come together.

BamBam: “Uhhh, BamBam,”you say, grabbing hold of anything that you could find as he turns the wheel sharply. He pushes the gas pedal quickly and then lets go equally as quickly that you both end up moving back and forth in your seats. “Sorry,” he says, trying to play it off with one of his quirky smiles. “How did you even get your license?” you ask, laughing. “You are an awful driver.” “Hey!” he says while at a red light. He pushes you lightly into the passenger seat window. “Excuse you, but I actually worked very hard to get my license,” he says, raising one of his eyebrows. You laugh as he continues to give weird looks on his face jokingly. “Yeah, worked so hard that you don’t even see that it’s a green light right now,” you say, pointing to the light. A car beeps behind you and BamBam quickly hits the gas pedal, pushing you slightly as he drove onwards, hating that you were right, but loving that you were there. 

Youngjae: The radio is always soooooo loud whenever he drives you. “Okay that’s it,” you say, turning the volume down, “I could barely hear myself think.” You rub the temples of your head, feeling the headache coming on already. “I was listening to that thoughhhhhhh,” Youngjae whines as he stops at another red light. “You’re such a party pooper,” he says, and then turns the volume just sliiiiiightly louder. “Now this song just sucks,” you say, grinning. He rolls his eyes at you as the light turns green again. “Okay, that’s it,” he says, and switches off the radio. He clears his throat and oh my gosh no — he starts BELTING OUT a horribly cheesy song and you laugh, knowing that he was doing it because you couldn’t — and wouldn’t — turn off your least favourite song being sung bu your most favourite person.

Yugyeom: He makes you drive because he can’t. LOL. Your phone rings in your pocket and you groan, already knowing who it was even before you saw the caller ID. “Yes, Yugeyom?” you say into the receiver, sighing. “Heyyyyyyyy, Y/N,” he says, already sensing that you were annoyed. “Can you pick me up?” he laughs lightly, hoping that you’d do it for him just oneeee more time. “Where are you?” you ask, sighing. “Home,” he says, and you can practically hear him trying to give you one of his innocent smiles to you. “I hate you,” you say, mostly because every time he called, you couldn’t say no. “You owe me lunch,” you say, smiling. “Well, obviously,” he says, laughing into the receiver, “I thought that’s what you were picking me up to do. I only ever want to see you, anyway.”