precious bbs =u=

“why can’t you just admit that you like me…haha…ha..”

i’ve been trying to tell u for the past 74 years smh


smiling noodle for my precious oshean-s ♡ happy birthday bb ilysm ;;

the magic begins: Favourite Relationships (3/3) - Remus Lupin and Sirius Black

“Did you like question ten, Moony?“ asked Sirius as they emerged into the entrance hall. "Loved it,” said Lupin briskly. “Give five signs that identify the werewolf. Excellent question.”

berry-happy-tokki  asked:

6, (jikook? bc u said jikook?) ((ps. i lov u my cat raiser my sweet lovely jo 💕💕💕💕💕))

🌸6- things you said under the stars and in the grass (ty tokki!!!! u precious bb always asking for the softest things aksnejne i had fun with maknae jimin thats such a cute concept)

park jimin isn’t their golden maknae for nothing: he can sing, can dance, can rap, has boys and girls in the industry or not falling at his feet. all it takes is a smile, a small giggle, a flushed face- and the person before him turns to mush.

“jimin, you look ugly in yellow,” jeongguk growls back in their dorm, eyes slitted dangerously at the sight of their maknae bantering with seokjin and taehyung, laughing about his terrible acting when sandwiched between two professionals. “who’s ugly sweater is that,” jeongguk continues grumbling, rummaging the kitchen for something to eat.

jimin flits over, seductive eyes widened and lips in a pout. “gukkie-hyung thinks i look bad? it’s taehyungie-hyung’s sweater, i was cold and-”

“hands up,” jeongguk cuts him off, and jimin does so, looking like a cold baby penguin in his bubblegum pink hair. in times like this jeongguk is thankful their maknae jimin is the smallest, so the Tall Guy Things work well for him. in seconds, the obnoxious yellow is yanked off carefully, tousling jimin’s mop of fluffy pink, and jeongguk shrugs off his army green jacket with the grey hood and dumps it on jimin.

“you look better in green,” jeongguk says noncommittally, looking away into the wrong direction of the suggestive smiles to the rest of the hyungs instead of the fridge for apple juice. damn it. whatever, he thinks, as he puts on his non-prescription circular frames onto jimin’s little nose. there. “much better,” he mumbles, jimin’s dressed now in his clothing, which ate obviously much bigger so it’s more comfy and warmer, thank you very much.

yoongi’s written lyrics and in spite of jeongguk’s ardent protests that he should write it for their maknae, head producer and genius min suga of course holds the royalties and calls dibs. he scowls, grouchy and when jimin sees his gukkie-hyung like this, his eyes twinkle with mirth, skipping over in a singsong voice. he gets away with almost everything, his hyungs are all so weak for him and he knows it.

“namjoonie-hyung~” jimin whines, “yoongi-hyung wrote me lyrics, i think you should proofread them-”

and everything explodes into chaos when yoongi starts hurling, “yah, brat! i am better than joon, what do you think-!” and jimin just giggles, tossing his head back when he sees jeonggukie-hyung grinning and laughing at yoongi, who’s being comforted by his soul partner, and ever so grumpy.

they go to film at show champion the next day, and when they come back to the dorms all tired and exhausted, jimin can’t seem to find jeongguk, who’s specified he wanted to see him afterwards.

“yoongi-hyung, do you know where jeong-”

“go ask namjoon,” comes the bitter voice, yoongi in a mock pout as he edits one of his selcas to tweet later. hoseok, who’s lying on yoongi’s lap, smacks the elder, and directs jimin to the rooftop. “thank you hobi-hyung~~” is said and he makes his way up.

night has fallen, and jeongguk’s standing alone on that faux grass, admiring the night sky. he hears the creak of the door, and softly smiles when he sees it’s jimin. when the maknae waddles over and stands before him, eyes in curious wonder, jeongguk picks him up by the waist instinctively. jimin meets his eye level now, legs wrapped around his hyung’s waist in reflex, weight supported by jeongguk holding up his apple butt.

“jimin-ah, you’re so tiny, and yet you glow like a little star in the sky,” jeongguk murmurs, “my little rice cake, a small dumpling,” and jimin buries his embarrassed face into the crook of jeongguk’s neck, all flushed and shy.

“you’re very beautiful, just saying.”

he waxes poetic a little more, about how jimin is celestial and heavenly and so very precious and alluring- until he remembers what he wanted to say. “oh, jimin? look at me,”

there’s a soft hum, and jimin looks into his eyes, like melted chocolate. “what’s the difference between a kiss and ppoppo?”

jimin makes no reply, but both of them are under close enough proximity to feel the heat radiating off jimin’s face as he recalls namjoon and seokjin hyung talk about the presence of tongue and how they all got so flustered while recording. “how could you ask me for a ppoppo on camera, huh, you cheeky brat,” jeongguk laughs, presses tiny pecks onto his manggaetteok’s jaw, his cheek, his eyes, his forehead, his temple, his hair;

“that’s a ppoppo, jeonggukie,” jimin whispers back, highly embarrassed now. “yah, i’m your hyung! and those six pecks are me representing all your hyungs, you hear? only i can do it. if hobi-hyung kisses your hair, then it's…. bearable,” jeongguk grits out towards the end. so possessive, jimin thinks, and he laughs, sweaterpaws cradling jeongguk’s cheeks. jeongguk’s just as brilliant as the stars in the sky.

“since jeonggukie-hyung has shown me what a ppoppo is, shall i… shall your maknae show you what a kiss is?”