Abbiedail - Bigbang/BTSstan
More Posts from Abbiedail and Others
arthur, after poppin that hair tonic:
Yay! Our favorite dragon is going to make a spectacular return to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade one last time to promote the final film of the franchise!
So Google does math for you??
division
square roots
dividing percentages
IT EVEN FOILS
beautiful.
someone knocked on my door and they were wearing a red hat. i didnt answer cuz i was scared it was donald trump
hoseokscandy
Mork’s ending speech in LA really got me cryin in the club rn sdfgfdsa
wait are there really new people joining this site. i thought it was a hoax.
G-dragon fluff Drabble pleaseeee + no specification
a/n: god i forgot how much i love writing for jiyong PLS - ruby
✵ gn!reader, baking together, established relationship, winter vibes but no holiday specified!
Jiyong’s lips catch yours the moment you turn from the counter, tasting like chocolate chips from stolen bites of cookie dough. Your flour-caked hands leave palm prints on his dark shirt, but he merely pulls you closer with a grin, chest expanding beneath your touch with a stifled laugh.
“You--…” He tries to silence you with a kiss, but you persist. “Need to stop… Eating.. The cookie… dough.” The words come out in a staccato between pecks, your mouth curling into a knowing smirk when he huffs in response. “Or else I won’t be able to make these cookies you said you’d die without.”
When he pulls away to reply with a snarky retort, you take the opportunity to snake your way out of his grip, barely escaping his sticky, sugary fingers as they attempt to latch onto the tie of your apron. The neatly tucked bow unravels, but you sacrifice the fabric and reach for the bowl of cookie dough while Jiyong growls playfully behind you.
“Baby…” He whines, as you hold the bowl above your head with both hands. “Hand it over!”
You giggle before clearing your throat, forcing your expression into feigned determination. “Over my dead body,” you state, raising your chin. The kitchen sits in silence for a moment, two, and then Jiyong has that look; eyes thinned, dark pupils sparkling.
You’ve been chased by him enough to recognize his familiar stance, and you barely take off before he does, the sound of his socks sliding against the tile filling your ears seconds later.
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