hungry co

10

└ Cos OTP and food and cooking set is ALWAYS good~~

Cr: Sakurai Sho Onigiri CM, Matsumoto Jun Kikkoman CM makings of

Bonus: Cos OTP makes me wanna say, “FEED ME~~~”

PHOTO PROP MINI ACT ~Sketchbook~
SOURCE

1.
Sousuke: There’s nothing written on these.
Rin: Apparently you can write what you like with a whiteboard marker.

2.
Sousuke:
Like this? *What I like…*
Sketchbook: Tonkatsu (deep-fried pork cutlet)
Rin: Huh? Ah… ….yeah. *Why tonkatsu…*

3.
Sousuke:
Cos I’m hungry…
Rin: *oh geez* Let’s go to the canteen then.

4.
Sousuke: *
Let’s hurry and go.*

Wouldn't Trade It For Anything In The World

@ellez1127 asked: Hi! Can I please have a Kyungsoo Au with “Can you NOT?” Thank you so much!

➸ Word Count: 1.4K

➸ Genre: Fluff/Humor

➸ Rating: Teens & Up

➸ A/N: This took me a while to come up with, and i guess i like the outcome lol. hope you enjoy this lovely! thanks for the request!♡

The car ride home had been slightly awkward and tense.

Kyungsoo kept a white knuckled grip on the steering wheel while glaring out into the open road not once sparing _________ a look.

Had she not been slightly intoxicated, she probably would have pouted at him and cared more about putting him in a mood. Instead though, she looked at him with a goofy smile on her face giggling every now and then recalling why Kyungsoo was so angry.

Keep reading

@uni_mafumafu 大人になってわかったことは、大人も涙を流すんだってこと。大人になっても悲しいことは悲しいし、強そうに見えてしっかり傷つくんだってこと。それと、子供の頃嫌いだった先生や大人たちも、きっとどこかで泣いたり、お腹をすかせたり、苦しいなあと思っていたのかなと思った。

Mafumafu: What i’ve learnt after becoming an adult is that even adults cry. Even when you become an adult, sad things are still sad and you’re still hurt by them despite appearing strong. And about those teachers and adults who we hated when we were young, I wondered if they too had sad and hungry times or times when they thought that it was just too painful.

Never play alone

Lazy day at the cave Jason spots Tim piling marshmallows into his mouth, and this loser is so fascinated that when he gets back to whatever hideout of the week, he’s curious enough to try to find out how many he could fit. Raiding the stockpile he knows that Red Robin not so secretly keeps in his more frequently used haunts for a bag of marshmallows, stopping by his room for a hand held mirror. He plops himself on his worn couch, mirror perched on the coffee table.

Three is fine.

Four still in the clear.

Six it’s a tight fit.

Eight his mouth gapes open, saliva is dripping down his chin. Jason grunts in frustration, Tim somehow managed at least twelve of these damn things! He was not one to be outdone he’s sucked enough dick he should definitely be able to fit more mama didn’t raise no quitter! 

Pressing on Jason takes a deep breath through his nose before cramming in more.

 He makes it to eleven when his comm beeps, Oracles voice coming through requesting his help on an investigation in his part of town. Jason attempts to remove the marshmallows to answer, only to find that they melted together forming one massive ball that feel fused to his tongue and teeth.

Grunts and gurgles the only sounds that can escape. Oracles calls growing with worry the longer he doesn’t respond. Jason is ripping out chunks of goo at this point getting it everywhere, he’s pretty much wearing it now. He catches Babs hurriedly saying she’s sending someone to his location, and absolute horror floods his system. Nothing could be worse than if one of the bats found him in this situation. 

The shame!

The utter humiliation! 

The great Red Hood nearly taken down by goddamn balls of fluff!

He would have to move. 

Leave and never come back, cut all contact.

Get a whole new identity, change his name to something they would never expect then flee the country. Yes! He could go to south america, give up the vigilante life so never to risk running in to them. He saw in a movie that Roy had dragged him out to see that the hero quit the life and turned to farming as an escape. Jason could do that! Drop everything and become a farmer! Or well…maybe not exactly a farmer, maybe raise llamas, no alpacas! Become an alpaca farmer! raiser?? herder??? whatever.

  Yornima Porkine the alpaca farmer is a perfect cover! 

Jason isn’t entirely sure how exactly you raise alpacas, but he could probably manage….but what if he cant, and he can’t make any money. What if they took the farm? he would have no way to make a living! Jason wouldn’t even be able to access his old accounts Bats would definitely be watching those. He’ll have to live on the streets, do some side show act to try to rake in some change to keep from starving. Dancing! No, Jason couldn’t dance to save his life. What if- the rest of the thought is cut off when the window to his right shatters, Nightwing smoothly tumbling in to a crouch taking in the surroundings. 

Closing the distance between them Nightwing takes in Jason’s appearance. What a sight he probably was, on his knees, marshmallows scattered everywhere, couch and coffee table pushed askew during his struggles, face flushed covered in white sticky goo, tears mixing with saliva.

One final cough dislodges the last of the marshmallows, falling to the wooden floor with a wet squelch.

Nightwing simply watching, silence stretching on.

“We’re going to pretend I was just giving head instead of what actually happened right?” Jason tries, voice hoarse.

Finally a snicker slips from Dick’s lips, turning into a full body laugh bracing his hands on his knees, bringing him to just the right level to outright laugh in Jason’s face.

“Not a chance!” Dick manages to choke out.

Heat fills his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Jason is about to angrily reply when cackling comes over his comm.

“Well looks like we found our Christmas card!” Oracle wheezes out No the cameras built into their masks! The rest following with comments. 

“Congratulations your place as a fool has been secured” 

“Master Jason! One child cramming food into their trap is enough thank you!”

“How many did you fit? My record is fifteen.”

“If you were that hungry Ma co-” “Get out of here Clark!”

Groaning Jason buries his face in his hands, laughter ringing in his ear.

The next day Dick receives a call from Roy, asking why he had to talk Jason down from moving to south america to raise alpacas. The only response he gets is near maniacal laugh through the phone and a picture message of Jason lying on the floor in full gear sans mask, surrounded by marshmallows with a little sign resting against his stomach with “I PLAYED CHUBBY BUNNY ALONE″ printed on it. 

Daddy needs you

Got7 Jaebum daddy Jb

Fluff/smut

(ddlg)

gif not mine

requested


It was sunny, warm morning. I woke up next to Jaebum, he was still asleep. I looked at my baby bump (week 24). I started feeling little kicks on it and I woke Jaebum up, he looked really sleepy but he just smiled “How are my babies?” he asked and kissed my cheek.“We are fine, daddy.” I said. Jaebum chuckled “No, that’s how we got this in here.” he said, moved his hand on the bump and kissed it.

*Flashback 

It was getting late and Jaebum still hadn’t come home. I was getting tired so I was getting ready to go to sleep. I heard the front door open and close. “Jaebum?” I yelled from the bedroom. “Y/N? Where are you?” Jaebum yelled “In the bedroom.” I answered. 

Jaebum came to the bedroom. “Nice pics you send me mid dance practice.” Jaebum said and kissed me”Wait do you mean nudes or the pic of your shirt being eaten by our cat?” I asked. Jaebum chuckled “The one with ‘Hey daddy’ I wanna see if you look as good in real life…”Jaebum said and kissed my neck. “I’m tired.” I said. Jaebum kissed the other side of my neck “I’ll let you be on top.” Jaebum said and kissed down. “I heard that before. You let me be on top like five seconds and then you flip me to the bottom and…” It was getting really hard to resist him because he started rubbing my clit trough my pyjama shorts “And…” I sighed “Baby…Daddy needs you.” Jaebum said and unbuckled his belt. “Fine.” I said.

Jaebum lifted me up and carried me to the bed. “Baby take off your shirt.” Jaebum said and kissed my cheek. I took my shirt off quickly and Jaebum kissed my breasts. He placed kisses lower and lower. He took off my shorts and rubbed my clit with his finger. He inserted a finger inside me and kissed my lips. Jaebum pulled his finger out and sucked it. He removed his pants and shirt. I looked at his hard cock and a small smile came to my lips. “Baby girl what you want?” Jaebum asked when he saw my smile “fuck me.” I said and Jaebum chuckled “What?”, I rolled my eyes “Daddy please fuck me.” I said. Jaebum kissed me and thrusted his cock inside me. I let out a loud moan. Jaebum started painfully slowly and when I tried to get him go faster he flipped me over and smacked my ass. I had to bite a pillow so I wouldn’t be a moaning mess. Eventually Jaebum started going faster and faster and I couldn’t control my moans anymore “Don’t cum till I say so.” Jaebum said and thrusted deeper.  “Daddy please.” I whined. I felt Jaebum cum “Cum for daddy.” he chuckled.

*End of flashback

I looked at Jaebum not impressed “Hey it’s not my fault we ran out of condoms.” Jaebum defended himself. “It so is.” I said and kicked Jaebum down from the bed “Fine, maybe it was but you look too good. It would be a crime not to fuck you.” Jaebum said. I rolled my eyes “Get out of my bedroom.” I said and pointed at the door “I was kidding.” Jaebum said and sat on the bed “No, I mean get out of the bedroom cos baby hungry and needs food, which it’s daddy made.” I said. Jaebum kissed my forehead and left the bedroom to make breakfast to me.

Originally posted by wanjacks

Masterlist

Read Between The Lines (8)

Chapter 7.2

Chapter 8


ROMAN

There was something refreshing about waking up in my own bed. Fresh sheets. Comfortable bed. Familiar space. And just the sheer thrill of being in my own space. No one to bother me about this and that.

But there was someone else in my space, and I loved it. There was something refreshing about waking up to a woman who wasn’t a one-night stand, a friend with benefits, or a regular screw.

There was something else refreshing about waking up to a woman you had deep feelings for. A woman who with one glance can make you weak at the knees, can wake the butterflies in your stomach, can make you just want to smile, make you feel happy and make you want to give her everything and anything. A woman whom with one touch of a hand could undo me.

She was sleeping peacefully and well relaxed, and I couldn’t help but stare as I thought. I felt at peace with her, comfortable with her to be myself, everything was effortless and felt natural. For the first time in a while I felt happy. Truly happy.

I wanted to wake her up so I could indulge in her presence, hear her voice, hear that laugh, see her smile. I wanted to see her stroke her neck when she was smiling shyly or nervously, her eyes crinkle when she laughed, her eyes widen enthusiastically when she was excited or telling me a story with fond memories.

But I couldn’t. She’d crossed enough time zones within two days and deserved the rest. We got to Pensacola in the evening last night, hungry as hell and ended up eating whatever occupied the cupboards. I’d suggested take-out but she was both too tired and hungry to wait for it. So cooking was out of the question too. We stuffed our faces with Oreos, gummy bears, chips, and Nutella spread on everything. My trainer would have a heart attack if he saw me at it.

The least I could do was get breakfast sorted, so I climbed out of bed, showering and got dressed, she was still sleeping. I made a run to the grocers to restock the fridge. When I returned, I found her sitting on the couch, legs tucked under and in my shirt, browsing through the TV.

“Hi,” she said the moment I walked.

“Hey beautiful, you’re up,”

“Yeah, a full 12 hours of sleep! I’ve never done that before. I feel brand new,” she said cheerfully.

“Good, I need you energised,” I winked at her then I realised it’d come off as an innuendo. Definitely not my intention. “I got food, I’m making breakfast, I know you’re hungry,”

“I sure am,” she said standing up, adjusting the shirt self-consciously and following me into the kitchen. “Can I help make it?”

“Mhhh-mmmh,” I smiled and walked over, pecking her lips and opening the fridge behind her to store away the items. “Hi,”

“Hi,” she said getting embarassed, hiding her face and stroking her neck.

“You’re not doing anything today, you’re gonna sit and relax, I’ll cook,”

“Don’t poison me,” she said pulling out a stool and slid onto it.

“I’ll have you know that I’m a good cook,”

“Oh yeah? You rub me off as a take-out kinda guy,”

“I would if I could, I’m not allowed to eat 90% of that stuff. It’s a sad life really,”

“It really is, no burgers? No fries? No ice cream, no nachos, no hot dogs, oh my - no waffles…coffee with cream, you might as well be a vegan!”

“Keep going you’ll be making your own breakfast,” I turned around to look at her.

She pursed her lips and mimicked zipping them.

But then she spoke again, “So what’s for breakfast chef?”

“Eggs Benedict with smoked salmon, pineapple and mango smoothie,”

She went silent and made a worried face, “I’m allergic to pineapples and I’m lactose intolerant,”

I mirrored her expression, in full panic mode. How had I not even thought to ask her? I started looking through the bag desperately, looking at the ingredients to see what I could make spontaneously.

“Okay, no problem, we can work around it-”

“Roman, relax,” then she started laughing. “I was just joking,”

I pursed my lips this time and just looked at her blankly.

“I’m sorry,” her laugh escalated. “Your face though, it was worth it,”

“Ha-ha!” I threw a sachet of the hollandaise mix at her.

“You jackass,” she cried, smoothing out her hair. “I need to have a shower, can I borrow a towel pleeaase?”

“Take everything from me why don’t you? You’re already wearing my clothes, speaking of, heard anything from the airline?”

“No, I called and they still have no update. So, I’m gonna need to go shopping because it could be a while until it comes back,”

“Y'know, we don’t have a problem with nudity here in Florida?”

“Yeah, I’m sure you don’t,” she rolled her eyes. “So what’s the plan for today?”

“Up to you, what do you fancy?”

She thought for a few seconds before replying. “Umm, well I need clothes so a bit of retail therapy, then I kinda just wanna relax, then maybe go out for dinner?”

I nodded, “Up for relaxing at the beach?”

“You’re really trying to get me naked aren’t you?”

I laughed and shook my head, then shrugged and paused. “Yes, but that wasn’t the point. Don’t stress, I’m your tour guide, I’ll hook you up,”

“Now you’re talking,” she perked up.

____________

JEN

We left his place a couple of hours later because after breakfast, we spent an hour in his bed, doing nothing, talking and flirting. Then he wanted to be smart and tried to come in the shower with me, even though he’d had one already. I spent five minutes fighting him off, even though I didn’t want to because I liked his weight on top of me.

I managed to pick a few things from the shops, I was only here for three more days so I didn’t need much. It was better to buy what I needed because I didn’t have a guarantee of when my suitcase would be returned. If it even did. I took it for granted that it was an internal short haul trip, so I didn’t get travel insurance.

I made sure to not consider pyjamas on my shopping list though, I needed an excuse to wear his stuff to bed, it smelt so good and felt so comfortable. Okay, aside from the latter, I loved the way he looked at me in his shirt.

“You hungry? Cos I’m hungry,” he frowned as we left Sephora with a bag of new make-up I didn’t exactly need. I’d gone in there for a concealer and mascara, girl problems.

“We just had breakfast,” I laughed at him.

“Three and a half hours ago,” he looked at his wrist watch to confirm. “You not?”

“I’m not hungry, but I could do with something cold though, this place is so damn hot, I think I’m getting a heat stroke,”

“Hey, I warned you and told you you can be as nude as you want but you didn’t wanna listen,”

I rolled my eyes at him again, puffing a breath of air and faking annoyance.

“Whilst you let that sink in, I know this place that can rival any coffee New York can offer,”

“Mhhh, I don’t know about that, I’m a coffee connoisseur, it better be really good Roman. Don’t set yourself up for failure,”

“Watch,” he took my hand and led the way.

- - - -

The place he took me to for lunch, The Chelsea, was cosy albeit small. It was very old school; had a Victorian opulence about it that reminded me of London. It seemed out of place here, but beautiful nevertheless and I loved places like that.

He ordered a kale salad with salmon and a coffee, I settled for pastries and ice cream that he recommended.

“I’m waiting for my round of applause by the way,” he said later as the waiter tidied after us.

“For?”

“For the best coffee you’ve ever tasted,”

I clicked my tongue and clapped my hands softly, right in his face. “Thank you, Roman,”

“You are welcome,”

We loitered around, talking over iced coffees; they were pretty damn good. We talked about his job and being on the road with friends turned family. How long he spent on the road and how he always missed being home; despite all that he loved it too much to leave it. He talked about his dad being a wrestling role model and how close he was to his mom. I could see where the conversation was going; it’d soon be turned on me and my family and I didn’t fancy delving into that. Not whilst here. So I diverted the conversation back to his wrestling dynasty and we talked The Rock for a while.

By the time we left The Chelsea, it was around 5 and too late to go to the beach like he wanted so we made a note to do it tomorrow. I could see why he would want to; soak up those tense muscles in the sun and actually just get a day to relax, which he mentioned was rare.

- - - -

In the evening we had a dinner date; he persisted on calling it that. I liked it. We didn’t get many opportunities to ‘date’ because of our distance and time situation. Yes we spent hours on end catching up on the phone but it’s a different ball game being in each other’s space; more intimate and realistic. You really get a feel of the person, literally and metaphorically.

“I’m so happy I packed my heels in my cabin bag,” I called out to him from the bathroom as I moisturised my hair. “I’d have lost those, and had to buy more to go with my outfits,”

“Isn’t it the same as replacing clothes like you just did?” He called back, slight humour in his voice.

“There’s an art to buying shoes Roman, you invest in them, clothes…mhhh not so much, I personally get bored after a while so I rid of them easily,” I explained, I could hear him laughing. “That’s why I don’t mind so much about that suitcase, my valuable investments are still with me,”

“That and the fact that you can wear mine,” he said.

“Yeah, they’re comfy. By the way, I’m not as shallow as I’m coming off right now,” I put the final touch in my hair and dabbed on my new lipstick purchase from Sephora.

“This is the first time I’ve ever had a lecture about the art of buying shoes,”

I cut him off as I stood by the door, “How do I look?”

He did a double-take and I saw his eyes widen as did his lips into a smile. He had a way of looking at me, I couldn’t explain it but it felt good. It was so intense but comforting and glorifying. Like I mattered, like I didn’t have to do much to hold his interest.

“Refined, wow,” he said, stopping what he was doing entirely to make the statement and focus his attention on me.

And that’s exactly what I meant.

“Gimme a twirl,” he asked and I did. “I like. I mean you’re probably overdressed for a dinner on a weekday evening but you look so good, there’s no way I’m letting you get out of that dress. Did you get that dress today?”

“Mhhh-hmm,” I smiled. “Well I’m glad you finally want me to keep my clothes on,”

“Good taste, and well, regarding that naked situation - we’ll see how dinner goes,”

Dinner was lovely. Everything came together so effortlessly. He took me to this French spot by the beach, Par la Mer, right on the cliff. We dined al fresco, at one of his usual tables, he said. It gave a panoramic view of the beach down below, the well lit city, it was very remniscent of Ocean Drive; less artsy and buzzing, more elegant and relaxed. In his words, it was ‘refined’, so we were dressed for the occasion.

Conversation was lighthearted and fun. After our macaroons and pastries for desert, he pulled my chair right next to his. We sat side by side looking down at the beach that stretched out into the distance, lit up by lamps, which looked so spectacular, especially the further they were; they looked like twinkling stars. Silence was comfortable, sometimes necessary as we took in the beauty of his city.

He ordered a glass of wine which seemed to relax him a lot more, but even before that, I could tell his guard was down. He was definitely at home.

“You’re drinking tonight,” I commented, remembering on the first night we met that he said he refrained from it because of wrestling.

“Mhh,” he said in between a sip. “I’m celebrating…what was it you said that night we met? Life? That’s it, I’m celebrating life. I’m out with a beautiful woman, at home, no work for a few days, I can do what I want, eat what I want, wake up when I want… life’s good right now,”

I had to agree, and take inspiration to relax. I too had to let my guard down somehow and not let the thought of leaving and going back to work soon haunt me. I had to live in the moment, because really we were in the same boat. And that’s all we had.

“You sure make it sound good,” I laughed, resting my head on his shoulder.

“Because it is,” he kissed the top of my head and started rubbing circles on my exposed shoulder. “Wanna try some?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“Mhh-hmm, let’s see how much you can take,” he mumbled. “I might finally be able to get you naked,”

I loved how low his voice got, rumbling like we were exchanging secrets.

“You’re a bad influence, my dad warned me about boys like you. I suppose you still are one if you have to get me drunk to get me naked,”

He lifted the glass up to my lips and chuckled sarcastically, “Boy? You’re talking like I ain’t grown,” I half-smiled at him over the glass as he tipped it into my mouth. “What do you think?“

"It’s…” I pondered, the taste of the wine lingering in my mouth. “Fruity and edgy…silky-”

“This is about the wine right?” he chuckled.

“Yeah,” I laughed, hitting him on the chest to dismiss his sarcasm. “It’s actually nice,”

“Yeah? More?” His voice perked up, and I would have damn well downed the whole glass on that basis. I declined politely. “So you don’t ever drink?”

“No, I’ve done it before but I just never enjoy it. Even if I like a drink - the alcohol aspect puts me off, and I don’t mean it in an arrogant way. It’s just that I knew this one guy we used to hang out with who used to binge drink and it got out of control. He got out of control. You could see it messing with his head and I told myself to never drink or I could be psycho like him. Because I gathered when you drink, you don’t ever know how you’re carrying yourself because it distorts your perception anyway. And that scares me, to lose control like that,”

I felt his grip tighten on me, “What if you just control your intake? Make it a thing to have one glass of say, wine every so often?”

“What if that goes out of control? You start with one, then two, three and then start trying other things and it escalates. Surely he reached a point where he craved it so much and lost control? I don’t want that, I already have an addictive personality,” I punctuated with a small laugh.

“This guy was an ex-boyfriend?”

I froze for a second, wondering how he'dd added that up. Clearly I wasn’t vague enough. I was as vague as the old cliché of people getting advice for their mysterious “friends”.

I nodded, resting my palm flat against his chest, and I thought I could fall asleep like this. Life definitely was good. He planted another kiss on top of my head and took my hand in his, intertwining our fingers; both a reassuring gesture. I was glad that he didn’t ask anymore questions about him. I really didn’t want to ruin this moment by resuscitating buried emotions and the past. At least not now.

“I would ask to stroll on the beach,” he began changing the subject casually and I appreciated it so much.

“You’re going all out tonight with the romance,” I teased him.

“I’m a gentleman,” he argued. That was granted. “But those shoes don’t look very suited for the sand,”

“Oh these bad boys?” I lifted my legs in the air and rested them on his lap, flaunting my knee-high gladiator heels. He put a hand over them and held my legs in place. “Yeah, not very beachy. Their flat counterparts would suffice,”

“They’re very pretty and unusual,”

“Thank you, they are a symbol of my pledge of allegiance to the Roman Empire,” I’d been dying to say that in a cohesive sentence since the day I bought them. I saw his face light up but he hid a smile from me. His face flushed pink.

“I like that. You are officially my Empress,”

I wondered what that meant; for us. Was it a joke? Or was it his way of declaring that we were something serious?

“Yes!” I balled up a fist in excitment. “The ten minutes it took to strap them up was definitely worth it,”

He laughed, thinking I was joking. He stopped when I didn’t join in. “Oh, for real? Well, if it’s worth anything, I think you really look beautiful tonight,”

“Thank you, and yes, it’s worth it,”

“I’m glad,” he rested his head on mine.

“Come on Romeo, let’s go get that sand stuck between my toes, I’ll take the shoes off,”

“Just as I get comfortable?”

“Yes! Come on, you did want to go to the beach remember?”

“Mhhh,” he agreed. “One minute, let me just take this all in,”

We must have looked a sight to onlookers, like lovesick puppies. I hated seeing couples like that whilst out. I never got why they could never sit opposite each other like humans and keep their hands off each other until they were in privacy. But in that moment, I understood why. I was one of them. I was in the moment. Lost in it. He was the only person that mattered.I didn’t care what anyone thought, they didn’t feel what I felt in that moment. They’d never understand. I was truly happy in myself too. And that to me, was priceless.

________________

Chapter 9

honestly it’s as ironic as the fucking song is… it’s their ‘life of the rich and famous’… being stuck in hotel rooms and lilo going nuts and playing football in the foyer… and harry laying around penning songs and getting frustrated writing stuff in his journal and pulling the sheets off his bed… and niall playing golf in the hotel room and sitting by the window playing guitar… and all their life is in the hotel room including the meetings they have and interviews as well and they’re meant to be famous, but this is their life.. to me it really brings home the whole ‘irony’ thing we’ve been hearing so much about